Cups
by AnikaAnn
Summary: Matt Murdock is a man on a mission. It has nothing to do with him being Daredevil (maybe just a little), yet it's possibly the scariest thing he ever needed to do. God help him. Basically a retold story of 'Damned' with few Matt's inside looks. Aka how to squeeze over 400 000 words in a one-part fluffy fic with an important goal. Set after '...And the World Was Gone.'
1. Cups

**THIS IS REALLY IMPORTANT!**  
I think I just committed the worst crime. Let me explain. As you might have noticed, this fic has two parts instead of the one advertised.

Some of the first part and the whole second part I wrote after finishing Damned If I Do and continued simultaneously with Damned If I Don't. But then I thought Matt's getting out of character in the last bit, so I made a _slight_ change. But I'm also an idiot and I wanted to share both versions.

So. If you want the original and extremely fluffy version with Terri and few other people involved, you reach the words **Instead of passing over her rooftop (bold)** of chapter one, and you better stop reading and go to the second part – Operation: Lilith. Basically Coffee Shop AU. Also, you will be less mentally scarred.

If you want Matt's POV – which might be more in character – you just continue. It's my canon. Kinda.  
Or, you know, you can read both. Kill me…

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 _Warning for graphic descriptions of violence, mentions of (attempted) rape and major character not exactly death. And… well, the rest depends on the version you'll read._

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 **Cups**

The idea was ridiculous. Matt had been thinking for a while now – a little desperate, because the problem seemed to have no solution –, but he finally thought he got it, even though it _was_ ridiculous. Yet, it was the truth.

Their relationship was defined by many things; danger, fear, crazy decisions and their outcome, blood. But nice things too, intense emotions that were making them feel alive; passion, hope, delight, love.

And then there was one thing, a literal object that stood out of the others – coffee cups. Matt took a moment to appreciate the stupidity of that statement, but the more he was thinking about it, the more it was making sense. And if there was something that was worth considering when he was about to do what he was about to do, this was probably it.

 **I.**

Their first encounter. The very first moment he met her, she was for some reason carved into his memory much deeper than she should have. Her nervous heartbeat, hint of a panic in her voice, soft sound of her hair brushing against her shoulder, whirling up the scent of vanilla, coconut and coffee as she – obviously relieved – turned her back to him to make him coffee. Her burning cheeks and embarrassment. Light accent, voice playful, with shame and threat as she called out for her colleague.

This was how Matt saw the world around him – too many details he needed to filter and forget soon, otherwise his brain would be overloaded even more than it already was. He had no real reason to remember her, but before he managed to forget, he got to know what she had written on his best friend's coffee cup; the short and easy rhyme that made his friend absolutely delighted and somehow caused Matt grinning. If all new arrivals to Hell's Kitchen would be like her, it would be a much better place.

After two another encounters, Matt thought he probably got sick – because every freaking time he met her, he was smiling. Even when he knocked her attackers unconscious, she made him smile for _three different reasons_ : she hadn't given the men the satisfaction of giving up so easily, throwing a very nice punch; then just hearing her 'thank you', so honest, was somewhat warming and _then_ she did the thing when she tossed him _a_ _snack_ as if she cared about him, a guy with his face hidden who had just beat someone up right in front of her.

He could have avoided another meeting with her. All he had to do was not to come in when he heard her (noticing her embarrassingly late) – and even though he wasn't sure it was her, he pretty much was, because _carved into memory_ dammit – but he was curious about her presence in his gym. And he had a hunch she would make his day better if he let them meet again; and she did. No coffee cups needed.

Of course, the hostage situation he would rather forget – cold crept down Matt's spine every time he remembered the moment she had had a gun at her head and a lump in his throat grew at the memory of what had followed. But he couldn't forget that, because truth to be told, her being stupidly brave was apparently an essential part of her personality. No cups here either, but there was the light scent of coffee as she walked to the bank right from work and he just couldn't ignore the smell that attacked his nostrils, now inevitably associated with her.

 **II.**

The policeman had a paper cup.

One of the cops who walked into the office of Nelson & Murdock was holding a cup of coffee in his hand, because he had clearly used the opportunity of being in the café before – in the café, where he had interrogated Vera's co-workers. Matt felt a very strong urge to splash the liquid right to the cop's freaking face, because Vera was _missing_ and he was _enjoying his coffee_. And the worse thing about it was that it might have actually somehow been Matt's fault, the outcome of the previous evening, when he firstly had been incredibly rude to her and then he had just left his brain-to-mouth filter turned off, because he had been absolutely stunned by her kind words and caring gesture.

And Matt was starting to understand that the girl, whose picture was carved into his brain, was leaving an imprint in his _heart_ as well – why else would his body be almost overwhelmed by fear?

Five brief meetings. How was that even possible?

Later of course, it was not fear what took over him – it was rage. Once he found her voice, full of pain, hearing what had been happening until he got to them (and it had taken him too, too long), he felt the urge to _kill_. And he was so glad she basically encouraged him to hurt them, as if she was giving him her unnecessary yet welcomed blessing to make them suffer. But no, she asked him to stop in a voice more desperate than before.

And despite what she had just seen and heard him do to another human being (poor excuse for it, but a human being nevertheless), she rested her forehead against his shoulder, leaning onto him, exhausted and hurting, but calm, with absolute trust, like a child to its parent, as if he hadn't been the reason they had taken her and hurt her in the first place.

The thing was, Vera wasn't a child. She was a rather beautiful young woman, little cute and little funny, stupidly brave, surprisingly strong and agonizingly _good_. By the time he got the crazy idea of visiting her in a hospital – a vigilante, bringing a balloon to a victim of a kidnapping – listening to her heart, hearing out her plea to talk, because she apparently liked his voice (he wasn't smug about it, he was _not_ , it wasn't like he could take any credit for that), he realized he was utterly fucked. Matt visited her during visiting hours as a concerned friend and her genuine delight at seeing him was hundred times more appealing than a freaking cup of coffee, shooting pure energy to his veins.

 **III.**

Matt was wrong. He hadn't been utterly fucked by the time of the late night hospital visit. Or maybe he had, but he was beyond that by the time he got a coffee cup with his _name_.

Karen hadn't notice. She brought the daily dope for herself and for their bosses, handed them their paper cups with indifference, speaking in tone that was screaming ' _worship me, I saved your life by bringing you this extraordinary gift'_. Matt thought the cup was wrinkled and he subconsciously traced the imperfection, denying it was also because he whirled up the light tones of Vera's scent she left when preparing the coffee. And then he realized there was a pattern. The small bumps weren't directly on the cup; they were on a sticker added to it. Braille. Four simple letters: _Matt._

It was stupid of course. It was a tiny piece of paper, it wouldn't mean anything, but it did. It meant she wanted to do something nice for him, making possible for him to read his name just like anybody else could, she _wanted to make him smile_ and he was unable to resist, giving in, his lips spreading widely as he felt his name. He heard Foggy's heart jump as he noticed Matt's high spirit and asked Matt about it. But Matt couldn't tell him, he didn't want to share his revelation, so he just shook his head and disappeared into his office, leaving two people absolutely baffled. Matt honestly considered keeping the cup just like Foggy had kept his own.

So. Very. Fucked.

When he confronted Vera about it, she seemed almost ashamed. Matt had been paying attention lately. He had been paying attention to the little things, because he desiredto find them and he was at least fifty percent sure he didn't make up what he had been sensing _._ How her heart always jumped when she saw him, the smile in her voice when speaking to him, her skin burning just a little hotter when she had touched him in the hospital, leading him to a chair. She was attracted to him. And he shouldn't be doing this, because he was one big bundle of issues he _did_ and actually _didn't_ want to get rid of, but she liked him and even though he was scared it would all go to shit when she would found out that her so-called saviour and Matt were the same person, he tried.

And hell, wasn't it worth it.

 **IV.**

It absolutely wasn't worth it for her. Vera announced him she knew, she forgave him for getting her kidnapped, not even blaming him for that matter, and she was _amazing_. He just liked to forget that there was the _stupidly brave_ part of her personality; she ran to save him after he had gotten himself captured and that somehow led to her getting _shot_. And yet, she was still _right there_ , by his side.

Vera was so sweetly embarrassed when she questioned his… _interest_ in her, afraid of that from all possible things, being absolutely ridiculous, because spending so much time in her intimate presence was driving him to edge. Her skin, sweet scent and burning heat, touching his (he wanted more, _so much more),_ her lips on his cheek, throat, mouth, hot wet breath ( _Jesus_ , he wished her lips _everywhere)_ , her hair, soft sound brushing her shoulders, silky smooth (he wanted to grasp handful of them, pull her closer, not leaving an inch between them), her whole body (yes, he knew it pretty well, but he desired to know better, to explore every line, every little imperfection and perfection, make it _his)_. He was going insane, holding back only because she was hurt for god's sake and it really was _not_ the right time to- but _Jesus_ , how could he resist? She was panicking and then she was curious and brilliant and considerate and her body was _screaming_ with want.

After, he had no idea how he could have lasted so long, when she had been right there, beautiful and eager. A tiny part of him wished it wouldn't work out well for them at least in that area, because so far she seemed to be _perfect_ for him in any possible meaning of the word and it terrified him, because he wasn't used to having something good, so, so good. Yeah, well. Not happening. He enjoyed every freaking second. And once he tasted, he couldn't get enough.

Of course she charmed the Nelsons. Of course she found the one gift he didn't realize he wanted and needed. Of course she cried at nights when she was haunted by nightmares about the upcoming trial, ending up _kicking ass_ at the said trial. And she was even taking his shit when he was trying to figure out how to teach her fight as she had asked him to, because she still trusted him while there were so many things he was keeping from her. And _of course_ one of those things bit him in his ass.

Stick.

That paper cup almost caused Matt a heart attack. Because Stick knew about Vera, he knew where she worked and he had talked to her, because that was positively her scent that was hovering around the cup and when Matt got to the café, one of the longest journeys in his life, he could feel Stick got _even closer_ than Matt had thought, fucking with both Vera and him.

There were probably more cups in between, but Matt didn't pay attention. He was out of his mind, apparently more than Vera, who seemed to worry about _him_ , until Stick fucking tried to strangle her – or only drive her away from Matt as she was convinced. And Stick didn't _._ There was clearly a shitstorm about to come at them, but she grasped him firmly yet tenderly with her fingers, not wanting to let go. Stick had failed and Vera still wanted to be with Matt, offering her love. Warm and light.

But Stick didn't fail the next time. And Matt could hear it, he would swear he could _see_ it, how her light was fading out. Matt was vainly fighting to get to her, his muscles burning from the effort, his fear almost paralyzing him, because she was _dying_. Blood was running through her fingers, her breathing unnaturally heavy and _wet_ , because she was _choking_ , her lung collapsing, her heart failing. It was the last sound Matt heard before he drifted away, feeling the tears of fury and helplessness strolling down his cheeks.

 **V.**

The next cup was a painful reminder of her being gone. Stick sure didn't treat him in kid-gloves. By the time Matt regained consciousness, there was a cooling paper cup by his head, coffee and light tones of vanilla and coconut enwrapping him. But it wasn't coming from around the cup and it was perverted. Her scent was perverted by a heavy smell of iron and copper. Matt's hands started trembling when he felt her torn t-shirt, dried blood coarse against his fingertips.

He didn't even realize how that happened, but suddenly there were only pieces of fabric all around him, spilled coffee, his own raw voice echoing in the plain room, his knuckles dripping blood, cracked and scraped almost to bone, stretched out to punch the wall again. He didn't do it. It was useless and it brought him no real relief. There was _nothing_ he could do to change what had happened. What _he had let_ happen. He had gotten Vera killed. There was no denying it.

And he felt like the blood on his hands wasn't his, but _hers_ , his knees weak and mind blank, a ringing in his ears muffling the memory of her heart failing and one of her lung shrinking, the wet cough and almost soundless whimpers of pain echoing in his head, fear and desperation in the air. And what was even worse was his awareness of that only being a memory, his _last_ memory of her, _carved to his brain_ right next to their first meeting.

She was gone.

It was only him, four walls, cold, loneliness, heavy weight of guilt and prayers whispered through trembling lips, over and over again, until his throat was too raw to speak. He just kept going soundlessly.

" _God, our Father,_

 _Your power brings us to birth,_

 _Your providence guides our lives,_

 _and by Your command we return to dust._

 _Lord, those who die still live in Your presence,_

 _their lives change but do not end._

 _I pray in hope for— for her,_

 _and for all the dead known to You alone._

 _In company with Christ,_

 _Who died and now lives,_

 _may they rejoice in Your kingdom,_

 _where all our tears are wiped away._

 _Unite us together again in one family,_

 _to sing Your praise forever and ever. "_

 _._

" _God, our Father,_

 _Your power brings us to birth,_

 _Your providence guides our lives,_

 _and by Your command we return to dust…"_

It felt like the Earth just stood still, the sudden change making him dizzy. His senses remained as sharp as ever, but he was tuning them out whenever possible. He was deaf to the outside world, to the city he loved; he suddenly couldn't stand listening to it, because he knew her heartbeat would be missing; and it was on him.

What could be days later, when he came back to the place where she had died – _where he had gotten her killed_ – to refresh the memories for the last time, not of her dying, but the reminders of her love… he found out, after infinite time in his personal hell, that she was _alive_. It was incredible, it felt impossible, yet it was the truth.

 _Do you believe in miracles?_ Matt believed in a lot of things, but that night he added miracles to that list. A tiny part of his heart hated God for letting her live when forcing him away from her, but he tried his best to shush the said part, convincing himself it was a sign. A sign that if he loved her, there was one thing he could do to prove it – _leave, keep her safe_ _and alive._ Let her live, because she was better off without him, no matter how much he hated the thought and he wanted to prove her, prove _everyone_ that it wasn't the truth.

And sometimes, Matt thought God maybe had a little bit of the Devil in himself too, despite the idea of him being flawless; He liked to play, tricking people's minds. Because if Matt took Vera's miraculous survival as a sign of her life being better without him in it, why only hours after his return to his city was on him to save her from being fucking _raped?_

Matt couldn't help it – he was tuned to her voice, no matter in which part of the city he was. He was in his apartment when he heard it. She raised her voice, fighting with a boy, or rather a man – and Matt shouldn't have invade her privacy, he should have leave her alone, because that was what he had convinced himself was for the best, to leave her to her own devices –, but the talk they led, _the_ _fight_ , it was about him. It was about Matt. And he really tried to tune it out, it shouldn't be so hard when he even had to prick up his ears to hear them, but… well. Matt sat tight, keeping himself from running to the man and break his jaw just for talking to her like that, making her voice sound on the edge of tears.

Then there was quiet and Matt made himself stay put as Vera and the man parted ways; except they didn't. The man must have followed her somehow, because suddenly they were fighting again and _Bryan_ didn't stop at words and the very same moment he grabbed Vera, Matt was on his feet, reaching for a hoodie at least, no time to change into anything else. The progress of the fight was his fuel.

He ignored Danny following him, all his focus on _her._ His heart skipped a painful beat as she finally gave in to a kiss, her own heartbeat fast; so Matt stopped dead in his tracks, gritting his teeth because it was none of his business, he had _left_ , no matter what his reasoning had been.

That was until he heard their struggle and realized she was only trying to fool the man, her pulse jumping for various different reasons than attraction.

And Matt was so agonizingly slow as he broke into motion again, arriving seconds before the poor excuse for a man took what he wanted and Matt suddenly _saw_. He saw in crimson, not only because the man had touched her, but he had touched her _against her will_ and he had _hurt_ her, and all what the Devil desired – not Matt, it was definitely the Devil in the driver's seat – was to hurt him as well. He wanted to see his blood. He wanted to break every single one of his bones and maybe he should start with tearing his tendons _one by one_ , because that could cause an extreme agony. He craved for his screams and whimpers, wanted to continue until the man would pass out from pain. And then the Devil would bring him back and started over, until that wretch just wouldn't be able to scream anymore and lost consciousness again. And he would do it over and over again, not until the man would die, but until he would _beg_ the Devil to kill him.

There was only one thing that stopped Matt from doing that and it wasn't Danny, not really. It was one single word, so weak and broken, barely audible: 'help'. Danny was here to help her, Matt knew that, but she wished for _help_. And god, Matt wanted to help. He convinced himself he needed to check her up, his fingers tracing her familiar features, touches he longed for, for so long, and he wished the circumstances were different , he wished he at least had her permission, because otherwise he was not much better than the man he had just almost killed. He kept telling himself he was just mapping her injuries and his hands were tender, not like those that had hurt her before. He clenched his fist so tight his knuckles must have turned white every time he found another swelling or graze, and her eyes…

Danny's heartbeat was steady behind him as he watched the weirdest of reunions and while Matt wanted nothing else but extend the period he could be with her, he knew he couldn't. He let Danny bring her to the hospital, because people wouldn't recognize the strange man – and Matt wanted to stay with the bastard and finish him, but he followed Danny's path instead, making sure Vera would get the _help_ she needed. And she did.

 **VI.**

The next dose of caffeine he got was not in a paper cup. It was in a regular mug, back at Vera's place.

And her apartment was once again full of his scent, _she_ smelled like him, because… their actual reunion had gone so much better than he could have ever hoped. In the darkest corner of his heart, there had been some kind of an image that resembled the real events, but Matt had been stuffing the idea to the back of his mind as hard as he could, because he had known it would never happen; to his shock, it _did_.

He was grateful to Terri who had pushed him into coming to Vera, let her know he was in Hell's Kitchen and even though he had had no idea what he would tell Vera once he would reveal he was back, he had dared to visit her anyway. And God, she welcomed him. It was like she couldn't quite believe he was here, unable to speak, but staying as close as he wished. Her hands on him, tender and desperate, her lips, burning heat, everywhere. She had missed him, maybe at least half as badly as he had missed her. That day he _did_ get an unspoken permission and he grasped the opportunity, taking and taking, because he could, because she was offering so willingly and she still loved him.

And the morning was beautiful, still so surreal, but the reality slowly crawled in, a bit by bit, starting with small things. The coffee in her apartment itself. The bottle of whiskey. Scars that he couldn't map with his fingers – oh, he had felt every single scar on her body, he had taken his time – but he could read between the lines of the talk Vera had led to her landlady and friend as well and it tasted bitter. Just like her sadness and disappointment when he revealed he had been in town for days, keeping his distance for reasons he wouldn't share. But she was still so understanding it wasn't even fair.

'Fair'. What a ridiculous word. None of what had happened was _fair_. It wasn't fair Stick had almost killed her. It wasn't fair Matt had had to leave. It wasn't fair she had gained a new scar, in a shape of a freaking pentagram, _burned_ to her skin. It wasn't fair she had fucking joined a cult of lunatics in attempt to deliver them to justice.

Matt was confident he knew her; he knew why she had done it. She had done it for him, because he hadn't been there to take care of it, which wasn't fair and he wanted to punch God to his face for allowing something like that to happen. What if she had died trying to do Matt's job for him? What if she had been _dead_ when the next to the impossible had happened and he had come back home? It. Would. Not. Be. Fair.

One horrifying revelation, one broken jaw and more heavy talk later, they were… good. Not great, but good and finding a way to cope.

Scratch that. They were freaking amazing, because they weren't him and her, but _them_. And she told him she would _stay_. There was nothing more he could want.

He tried really hard not to think about that he had too many good things once again and the more he loved them, the more he had to lose.

 **VII.**

Falling back into to normal was… complicated. With Vera, it was surprisingly easy. Maybe he shouldn't have been surprised by her surprising him anymore, but he was. She accepted the fact he had vanished for three months and she let him enter her life as if it never happened. Most of the time, though it was true they were rather tiptoeing about the time they had been separated, she was enthusiastic about any contact (and Matt initiated a lot of contact, but so did she, so it was only fair). She was happily sticking his name to the coffee cups as if the small pieces of paper never left her apron. Her coffee tasted the same, but she started adding a kiss on his cheek or his lips to each cup she handed him. Matt sure didn't complain.

Of course, returning to work was... hard. Foggy refused to stay in business which was daily endangered by his partner disappearing or dying, Karen had a job at the Bulletin and Matt really couldn't blame either of his friends for moving on while he had been gone.

Curiously it was a piece of his life outside of Hell's Kitchen that helped him with that. Danny. Matt dived into trying to get his life back legal way, it kept him busy and at the same time, he got an opportunity to remind people he was a capable lawyer, who kept working even when Nelson & Murdock fell apart.

And Danny was a great friend. Matt knew that he could count on him even when they slowly drifted away, Danny rebuilding his life, Matt still trusted him with his life. Yet, in many ways, he was like a child, possibly _worse_ and Matt just didn't have the strength to say no to the hopeful voice, begging Matt to let him join Matt's and Vera's… training session? Honestly, Matt wasn't sure, it wasn't like they had actually agreed on _what_ they were about to do at Fogwell's.

Matt could sense her hesitation that evening, certain distance and guarding; it was one of the strange moments they weren't sure what they were to each other anymore. And then she dropped the bombshell. Before they could both fully realize what Matt had agreed to, Danny made an appearance; a child walking into an adult talk, seriously.

And _what_ had Matt just agree to?! It was possibly the worst thing he could have done. After all, Vera had already agreed to stay in New York, so _why_ had he said yes to meeting her family and friends, who could possibly convince her he was so not worth it?

Later, he realized it might not have been the worst thing. Because that way he could at least try; he would show everyone he _was_ in fact worth it. Prove Vera he was worth it. He just didn't figure out how.

Yet.

 **VIII.**

The visit went well, at least he thought. Vera definitely inherited most of her features from her mother – a kind woman with big heart, joyful, obviously trying not only to be a mother to Vera, but also a friend. She accepted Matt easily and while Matt couldn't understand her when she sometimes talked to Vera in Czech, she was treating him… well, like Vera. She didn't seem to care he was blind – what was important to her was that he loved her daughter.

Vera's father was difficult – unlike Hana, he didn't speaking English at all and he was rather guarded, emotions carefully hidden. Matt thought he caught him observing him sometimes, but he rarely spoke with his family as well as with Matt. Matt wasn't sure what to make of that. The more of a surprise for Matt it was when the father played chess with him and it almost felt like Mr. Machacek was warming up to Matt after it – Matt found himself feeling sorry they were leaving then and he had no chance to spend more time with him, perhaps know him and let him know Matt too a little better.

There was also a tiny bump on the road, right in the beginning. Maybe rather bigger than tiny; Vera's brother. Matt hadn't exactly plan on revealing his double life to Petr of all people – but while Matt heard them fighting about something, he couldn't understand them and then he had about one and half second to make a decision, one and half second before he would get punched to his face. He really didn't have much time to consider all pros and cons.

He revealed Petr his moonlighting as a vigilante as well as Vera's escapades, while she was in the shower, but the real talk came in the morning.

Matt woke up at Petr's alarm, slipping from under the covers, knowing he wouldn't fall asleep again. They had an approximation of a breakfast together and possibly the strangest coffee he ever had, mostly because of the surreal conversation they had over it. Vera's brother – and Matt knew he loved her very much, not only thanks to the lack of lying when Petr had said that – obviously thought about it overnight.

"Are you serious about her?" he asked Matt after a rather long silence that Matt couldn't have decided was comfortable or not. Matt almost choked on his coffee.

"Yes."

"Huh." Petr seemed surprised by the quick and firm response. What kind of a question was that anyway? Of course Matt was serious about her. "Can't tell if you're lying, I can't hear your heartbeat."

Matt sighed. Petr's voice didn't sound accusing, but there was a hint of doubt.

Petr continued. "Exciting life, parkouring over rooftops, dodging bullets, taking down bad guys, Marianna waiting at home for you…"

"It's not like that!" Matt protested sharply, irritated by Petr's mocking tone. Petr's pulse jumped. "I mean… it is, partly. Of course she's my base. Of course I'm glad I can always come back to her."

"You're not with her just to…. Please, tell me you're not with her just for sex and because she conveniently happens to know what you do at night."

Matt clenched his jaw, his next words strained through his teeth. "No, I'm not."

"Then why _her?"_

 _Because she's Vera dammit! Because we just somehow happened and it was the best damn thing!_ Matt was getting pissed, but he obediently tried to form words, create a more reasonable excuse than 'because she's Vera'.

"Because she knows-" Petr inhaled sharply, not getting a chance to speak though, "-because she knows things that one or maybe two people in my life do, if even, and she still chose to stay and take it all. Because she saw me break people's bones, but didn't judge me – not because she would like violence, but because she… _understands_. Because she witnessed me at the bottom and pulled me up instead of kicking me lower. Because she cares and cares enough to learn stitching up knife wounds for me despite dropping out of med school. Because she's beautiful in every sense of the word. Because she can be one hell of a fighter when it comes to something or someone she loves."

Matt made a pause, chuckling as he was realizing just how many reasons he could name.

"Because she can make me laugh and makes me want to do crazy things like sneaking into her hospital room in the middle of the night with a balloon. Because she's fierce and faithful and for some reason she chose me – hell, she apparently chose _me_ over coming back to her _home_. And before you ask if I ever wondered if I should stop being selfish and putting her in a danger by sticking around, yes, I did. But she's her own person and she made her choice. And since I'm very happy about it, I'm not gonna try to convince her otherwise, because I'm _blessed_."

The silence that followed was deafening. Matt could hear Vera's silent alarm going off in the bedroom and her discontent whimper as she turned it off; and her heartbeat increasing when she examined the whole room and didn't find him. He sighed.

"Alright. That sounded sincere," Petr exclaimed, something indefinable creeping to his voice. Matt's senses focused on Vera.

"She's getting up."

"Okay, that's a little creepy. One more thing. You said you were serious about her."

"I am," Matt confirmed cautiously, puzzled by the weird development. Her bare feet touched the floor as she slid from the bed, slowly walking towards them.

"If you're getting any ideas… considering your plans here… I approve, I guess. You have my blessing or some shit, okay?"

Matt was fairly sure the world stood still. His body went rigid and his mind got caught in a loop, the connection between the two elements of his being short-circuiting.

"…uhm, is everything okay?" her sleepy voice snapped him from his trance and Matt would swear Vera's brother chuckled silently, quiet wicked sound. Vera's hand lightly touched Matt's shoulder from behind.

' _If you're getting any ideas – considering your plans here – I approve.'_

Matt tilted his head back, facing Vera, giving her wide smile. He thought she smiled back, bringing her lips to his in a peculiar reversed kiss.

"Absolutely."

Petr snorted to his coffee, almost choking as well.

The rest of their stay was… not necessarily busy, but sure eventful. Some events small, some larger. Matt had troubles believing Vera would choose to come back with him – her family was loving, each of its members having a different way of showing affection, but the amount of care they had for each other was undeniable. The shovel talk he got from her mum was non-invasive, the questioning surprisingly (maybe not that much) gentle and definitely justified. They were protective of her. It got him wonder – was there a connection with her ex? Petr had mentioned him when talking to Vera the first evening, but Vera never shared the context. Matt had never really talked about previous relationships with her for obvious reason on his side, so he couldn't help but let his mind wander.

Her friends were nice too. Matt found himself trying very hard to impress them, possibly in an unforced way. He wasn't sure if she had instructed them how to act around him – or rather how _not to_ – but when it came to her closest three friends and their partners, he was pleasantly surprised not being treated like glass and being asked for help instead of being offered it too often.

There were moments that made him smile, but they were also moments that let him contemplating. Thinking of what he wanted. Neither Matt nor Vera was much for thorough planning, but… being at a wedding, some thoughts were inevitable. Vera was obviously afraid it would scare him out of his mind, trying her best to confront him with it as little as possible, and Matt let her live in blissful ignorance of him being confronted before. The truth was that when he did briefly look into the future… well. Matt was really happy to find out that some of his imaginations matched hers.

 **IX.**

Waking up from a coma felt like opening his eyes to a whole new world in which he could see.

The remains of his dream were not going away, his thoughts from the horrible four days rooting in his head. Saying Matt was eager to get the hell out of the hospital was an understatement, even though Vera came every day for the three days he had to stay under surveillance, always bringing coffee and homemade muffins – two or three, because she knew he was starving, the smell of the hospital food – and hospital itself – making him nauseous.

The first time she had done it – the day after he had woken up – she had brought _Devil's food_ ones and laughed at his expression. His senses had picked up the fading scent of whiskey and coffee on her – she hadn't been drinking it that day, but it had been there. Her body had been tired, _exhausted._ Matt hadn't need sight to know there had been dark circles under her eyes. And all of that because of him. For him.

Matt wasn't a complete idiot, he knew what he had in her, but seeing how different things could have been… she shined even brighter in the stark contrast to the other Vera he had met. She was his home. Matt hadn't ask her to move in with him yet, desperately wanting to do so though, remembering how he had wished for it in the other world, desiring to have a prove of her existence, prove of her presence in his life. He wanted her there; he wanted her in his apartment. He wanted his apartment to be home.

He was honestly one breath from asking her to move in once he would be discharged, almost had done it multiple times – every moment she had walked through the door, bringing joy and love and another cup of coffee with his name to feel. He had always chickened out, because he wasn't that kind of a daredevil. Cuts would heal, broken bones could be fixed – rejection was a whole new level of pain.

"…and then I spilled the coffee on his overpriced shirt and told him to go screw himself, because I'm a barista, not a prostitute and I don't have to put up with his shit," her voice brought him back to reality and he winced, going over her words, gasping.

"You what?!"

" _There you are._ Are you okay? I mean… 'okay' by your standards…" she asked carefully, fingers running over his knuckles, only for him to realize he was clutching the sheets. He let go, taking her hand instead.

"Yeah. Sorry. You— what did you say? Why did you do what you said you did?"

"Well I didn't do _that_ , sadly. Even though I kinda wish I did. I just looked at him murderously when he added the butt slap to his horrible flirting as if he didn't have a ring on his finger-"

His hand twitched deliberately, anger shooting to his veins. He wished he had been there at the moment to memorize the man and break his arm later, just like he wanted to do when _Scott_ did it to her in his alternative reality. Who dared to treat her like that? _No one_ would disrespect her like that.

Light touch of her lips on the back of his hand brought him back to present.

"Just one more day, Matt. Claire said they would probably discharge you tomorrow," came her soft voice, sympathetic, but at the same time not pitiful, because she understood, she _knew_ he hated that. "Too hard to tune it all out?"

Yes, there was a woman yelling at her brother for being irresponsible for driving when drunk few floors below them, but that wasn't what was in his mind at the moment, not actively. Something else was. But she was always considerate of him, treating him like glass while not treating him like glass-

"Come here," he invited her, straightening on the awfully uncomfortable bed, glad she took the hint and invaded his space, indescribable warm reach out to him. Shaky breath with a smile when he touched her jaw, meeting her lips, trying his best to ignore the indeed annoying shouting from downstairs. And everything else.

God, he just wanted to go home.

No, he wanted to take her back to his apartment and _make it home._

 **X.**

So yes. Cups of coffee were like a red thread running through their relationship. Some of them were good, memories of others stung, but it was undeniable. Matt decided it needed to be considered.

What he was about to do was crazy. It terrified him and he was convinced he would rather face Wilson Fisk or the Hand all over again than doing it; or dealing with possible consequences if it went to shit. On the other hand, it felt like he didn't have a choice. He had lived a dream about his world without her by his side and it was a terrible world.

 **Instead of passing over her rooftop,** he slid into her apartment, just to kiss her forehead without any intention of waking her up. He knew her lips curled in a soft smile as she blindly reached for his cheek.

"Are you 'kay?" she murmured, words slightly blending together as she wasn't fully awake, yet with the worry audible in her voice.

His own lips involuntarily formed a smile at her worries. His mind had been preoccupied lately, trying to come up with a perfect scenario, but at the moment, he would just ask her right here, right now, sleepy mumbling and no doubt gorgeous smile.

"Yes."

"You sure about that?" she questioned.

Matt pressed his lips together to stop himself from chuckling. She was seeing through his bullshit. Every time. It was rare, him trying to deny an injury – because eventually she always found out. It was easier to tell her the truth. He hated lying to her anyway, even if it was to keep her safe or _sane_.

"Yes."

She hummed and he could hear her lift the covers, clear invitation to join her in the bed. So tempting. Warm and light. "Are you staying?"

Matt should come back out there. He forced the answer out, wishing he could say something else.

"No."

Vera let out a grumpy disappointed sound, the covers falling back to its place. He made himself to turn around – and God, he was slow as the movement was less than just involuntary – ignoring the sound of her tongue running over her lips and her sigh.

" _Be careful,"_ she whispered sleepily, yet with urgency, silent plea to be vigilant, not to make any risky decisions, not to get hurt, but to come back to her _especially_ if injured, so she could take care of him.

His heart made the funny flutter like always, realization of what he had in her, while he started walking to the window.

And then his body stopped listening to any rational command of his mind. He just couldn't help himself, turning back, crossing the distance, crouching by the bed, close to where her head rested on the pillow. A pillow that smelled like her and him, like her tears, like their memories.

"Will you marry me?" his mouth whispered without consulting with his brain. Matt was horrified just a second later.

 _Did you really ask her? Just like that?!_

Vera hummed something he was pretty sure was agreement and his heart skipped a beat, his knees getting weak. And then his rational side woke up, examining her – her breathing was even, pulse rather slow. He gulped, not certain he was glad she was asleep.

Scratch that, he was _crushed_ by the wave of disappointment, because she might have notexactly said yes, but he would take the hummed agreement any time. He was fairly sure he would never gather his courage again. So he let the body act without supervision again, tossing his gloves aside, taking his helmet off.

 _What are you doing?! You don't even have the ring!_

Matt didn't have the ring. Not on him anyway, he didn't have a habit of beating up people while carrying a jewellery box with an engagement ring in his pocket. No, he had it hidden in his apartment, safe.

His body graciously ignored the voice of reason, fingers running through her hair carefully, not wanting to pull and cause her pain.

"Hm?" She tilted her head heavily, her lips finding his wrist, lightly pressing over his pulse point. Jesus, he was _blessed_.

"Will you marry me?"

Her eyelashes created a small tornado as she blinked furiously, her heart jumping, sprinting. She licked her lips again, gulping, closing her eyes.

"I have the weirdest dreams…" she muttered under her breath, covering his hand with hers, tugging it to her lips again. Matt inhaled shakily. Did she think she was dreaming? Now? Or that she had been dreaming before? "You changed your mind and you're staying?"

Before. She definitely thought she had been dreaming _before_. His throat was tight and he cleared it uselessly as he tried to smile, probably failing epically.

"What did you dream about?"

Her cheeks flushed furiously, her pulse fastening even more. It only confirmed his theory. _Jesus Christ._ It was a sign that he shouldn't be asking at all, since he hadn't gotten a proper answer _twice_ now, wasn't it? Plus, there was still the fact he didn't have the ring on him and asking her such a serious question in the middle of the night, _in his Daredevil suit_ , that was just wrong; he almost had a plan and it wasn't even a bad plan, he should stick with it.

Vera sat up, leaning onto the wall behind her and his body subconsciously followed the movement, moving closer so he didn't lose the contact with her face.

"You don't want to know," she whispered, more blood rushing in her cheeks, beautifully burning when his fingers traced it.

His stupid body kept ignoring his brain and rational thoughts.

"I do."

Matt only realized his poor choice of words when she almost went to a cardiac arrest and apparently failed to control her vocal cords. He would laugh, but somehow it seemed impossible at the moment.

"Will you marry me?" he asked for the third time that night, his inner Matt throwing his hands in the air incredulously, probably shooting him a murderous look.

 _Seriously, Murdock?! Tempting fate like this? You just want to be rejected, don't you?_

Vera turned into a statue, her breath hitching. Her body went to fight or flight state, ready to face any danger.

That bad?

"Yes," she choked out, sounding quite bewildered and Matt was confident he heard wrong. He just imagined it. _Did she say 'yes'?_ His lips parted, tasting both her and his disbelief in the air, something he had never felt before slowly taking over him. And then he sensed her terror. _"Jesus,_ I'm sorry, what did you just ask me? I'm really half sleeping right now-"

"What do you think I just asked you?" he blurted out, losing firm ground under his feet, because she said _yes_ , she _agreed,_ so _why_ couldn't he have this?!

"I'm— uhm…" she stuttered, obviously embarrassed, and there was a flicker of hope for him behind that tone, hope that it actually _ha_ _d_ happened, she had agreed aware of the fact he had asked her to marry him.

"…don't— just- uhm. I would swear you asked me to marry you, please, don't freak out-"

"And I would swear you said yes," he breathed back and she made a tiny startled sound in response. That was… good or bad? Was that a yes then? _God please, let it be yes, or I'm never gonna ask again._

"I did."

Two words: _I did._ She said yes.

Vera just agreed to marry him.

Matt chuckled in disbelief, climbing to the bed, brutally drawing her lips to his mouth. She didn't even have time to protest and then she just _couldn't,_ because any sound that could escape her lips was muffled by his own.

She said yes, she said yes, she said _yes._ And her breath was in his mouth, and it would be his now, in every sense of the word, _she_ would be his.

His mind, the rational part that had been discouraging him from doing something so royally stupid like proposing under these idiotic circumstances, got caught in a loop, his hands tugging her face closer and closer, not wanting a tenth of inch between them.

Apparently, Matt wasn't the only one overwhelmed, letting the feeling he didn't know existed wash over him, because Vera was finally kissing him back and _Jesus Christ,_ she was crying.

He retreated, the treasure still in his palms, allowing her to breathe. His treasure. His quirk of fate. His miracle.

"What's wrong?" he demanded, his mind unlooping itself, coming up with millions possibilities from something causing her pain to her disappointment in his modest and absolutely inappropriate proposal.

Her breath tickled his face as she chuckled. "Absolutely nothing. You— you don't have a concussion or something like that, do you?" Vera asked, suddenly horrified and he cut off her ridiculous idea before it started springing in her head.

"No. I'm very much aware of what I'm doing right now." _Mostly_.

"So you… you really want to… marry me," Vera stated absolutely awe-struck as if someone just told her that Daredevil was in fact a blind lawyer by day. Matt had to admit that without any supporting evidence in a shape of, well, he didn't know, _a ring_ for example, her doubts were probably justified.

"Yes. Yes, I do. I _swear_ I have a ring, but not here. It's in my nightstand. I _promise_. It's just— you- I love you. And I wanted to make it unforgettable and perfect- and I know I failed rather colossally now-"

"This is perfect," she whispered with immeasurable amount of emotions in her voice, more salt in the air, more tears rolling down and for the first time, it occurred to him – no matter how crazy it seemed – that they might be _happy_ tears. She was always easy to cry.

"Yeah?" Matt breathed weakly, letting her tears run down from his fingertips to his palm. There was something huge in his chest and it was not allowing him to breathe in properly.

Vera nodded furiously, her hair brushing the back of his hands and she leaned in, kissing his doubts away. Matt was distantly aware of the fact that the armour was possibly the least comfortable thing for her, but he guided her hips anyway, wordlessly asking her to sit in his lap. She didn't seem to mind, obediently climbing on top of him, knees bordering his hips. Her fingers interweaved in his hair and he got ridiculously pleased when he imagined that every single time she would do it from now – _almost from now_ –, he would feel smooth metal on one of her fingers, he would feel her ring, saying the whole world that this amazing human being loved him and wanted to be with him.

She made a tiny pained noise when he squeezed her waist too firmly, tugging her body against his with too much force (but she opened her mouth for him, inviting, so he guessed she wasn't particularly bothered), because he wished they would just merge into one.

One body, one breath, one heartbeat, one soul. _She said yes_. Matt wanted to shout it from the rooftops, write it to her skin, slip the ring of her finger and make her never put it away, he wanted to let _everyone_ know. His. She was going to be _his_. She wanted to be his. His, his, _his._

Her lips moved to his neck, grumpy sound vibrating against his skin warm and wet when she realized the cowl was in her way.

"One, you're thinking too loud and two, I really don't want to take it personal, but you look like you want to back out and escape-"

"I just want to go get the ring," he growled, half embarrassed, half pissed at himself.

He was in fact torn in half. He really, really wanted to stay, not to move even a little bit away from her, leave marks on every inch of her body, mark her as his, and at the same time, he needed (and it physically ached him almost as much as the rush of blood to his groin, his fingertips tracing every line of her body, not having enough, never enough, she was everything and he wanted, god, he wanted and _wanted)_ to get the freaking ring to mark her in the _right way_.

But she was on him astride, her body, her hands on him, her lips, eager and desirous. He could feel her skin burning hotter with each second, tasted her arousal on his tongue, dizzying cocktail of hormones luring him, blinding his senses with lust, and _Jesus_ she was so wet and throbbing he could slip into her right now, slick and hot and sweet-

"Ring can wait."

The colour of her voice, dripping with need… she shifted in his lap, supporting the friction and he didn't even know how to name the sound that left his lips, but he was fairly sure it was a _whimper_ , because he wanted to feel her, he wanted to be inside and the armour was a tool of torture _,_ because he knewhow it should feel when she moved like this and this just _wasn't enough_. All he could do was to rub against the firm suit, usually protecting him, but right now trapping him, and it didn't bring him half of the relief he craved for. He grabbed what he had tighter.

" _Mine,"_ resonated in the back of his throat and he could tell exactly what effect that sound had on her body and _Christ_ , she was soaking through the fabric of her underwear now.

He swiftly guided her hands to the opening of the stupidly concrete armour, not wanting to give up the opportunity to touch her just in order to strip it. He couldn't feel her touch in the right way anyway, not over the suit, so this was the best possible use for her fingers; apart from losing her patience with his clothing, taking the initiative and using them for pleasuring herself right here and right now. God, the sounds she would let out, she would burn with need and he would guide her, tell her to go faster, deeper, while all he would wanted would be doing it by himself, but instead he would be unable to move, fascinated, paralyzed- and no, that idea was not helping the unbearable throbbing in his crotch.

He could hear her fingernails running over the zipper, but it was so unimportant, when her voice, liquid sin, whispered to his ear.

"There are other ways to mark me yours."

Matt gasped, wave of her scent crushing him, and he gripped her brutally, with too much avarice, but still too little. God, he knew, _he knew_ and he wanted to, to mark every inch of her. "You can leave so many marks on my body no one will ever doubt to whom I belong."

This was _painful_. So painful. His hips uselessly rocked against hers, good, _good_ , but _not enough._

"Marks on places I'll never let anyone else touch or even see again," _Jesus Christ-,_ "and somewhere everyone will see, every single person in the café, on the street, and they'll all know I'm yours. You want them to know that, don't you?"

" _Yes,"_ he managed to choke out and he could feel her smile, wicked, beautiful smile, and her own arousal spiked enormously; she was turned on at the thought too, god, one breath, one heartbeat, one body, _one_ _mind._

And she still tortured him, her fingers playing with the fastener on his side, as if she liked him like this. He wanted to throw that thing away by himself, but that would mean stop touching the hot smooth skin on her torso, on her breasts and thighs and he just couldn't _,_ not now.

Such a simple thing like her biting his earlobe made him release another pathetic sound as he could feel the blissful tension growing. Fuck, he was still fully clothed, so was she, but he was so _fucking close_. And she wriggled on him, the motion barely breaking through the armour, but it was so much, almost _too_ much, yet he wanted more, arching against her motion. Again. And again.

And then her lips were back on his mouth, heat, breath of life, and he took it, sloppily and clumsily, but he needed it, needed to taste her, needed her closer, not enough, _not enough…._ He wasn't inside her, but she was looking for release too anyway, rubbing herself on him, on the hard parts of the suit, and _holy freaking shit_ if he ever wanted anything so badly, ever saw anything so alluring.

She retreated to take a breath, somehow, despite his hands on her body pressing her close, and her mouth was still on his, light touch, vibrating with words, titillating his sensitive nerve endings.

"You can mark me and let them see," she incited sweetly and he knew that, _he knew, not close enough, a little bit more, god, please,_ "and you can make them hear too. You can make me scream for you so loud everyone will hear. Let them know I'm yours, _Matt."_

It was stupidly his name that sent him over the edge, the last drop in the ocean, and the tsunami of pleasure flushed over him and he couldn't control it, he couldn't control anything, the tension releasing, endless bliss in every cell of his body, tingling in the base of his spine, heat running to his fingertips, and it was _everything_.

And Matt knew he was going to hell for this, because something so satisfying and blissful had to be a sin, while it felt like heaven. Yet, he was agonizingly sure he was on Earth, because she was right here with him. She was too unchaste to be an angel and too virtuous to be a demon, so she was expelled here, to his side, and he would never stop thanking God and Devil for rejecting her and giving him so precious gift. And he would take it, he would take her and make her _his_.

He heard Vera gasping, astonished sounds, when she realized what had happened, what _she had done_ , but there was no judgement or disgust. No, nothing close to these things.

So he obeyed her previous orders. He finally got off the suit and heard out her pleas, marked her everywhere he could, made her scream for him, made her beg loud enough to wake up her neighbours, so they could hear when she came with a cry, with his name on her lips.

Matt didn't know what time he had arrived, but they didn't go to sleep since. They made love again, slowly and fast, and again in the shower. Before she went to work, he vanished, letting her get ready – he headed straight to his apartment (hopefully soon _theirs_ ), grabbing the small box. He proposed one more time, properly on one knee (still in the armour though), while she was just leaning against the kitchen counter with a cup of tea in her hands. She was obviously exhausted from their night just like him, but she shined so bright he was sure he would get blinded if he still had his sight. She said yes once more, laughing delightfully, and he wanted to hear her laugh like that every single day. And now he could.

Matt followed her across the rooftops when she went to the café and fought a smile every time she giggled without a real reason; maybe at her thoughts, maybe at her memories – he didn't really care.

"Jeeeez, Vera, did you get any sleep tonight? You have _bruises_ under your eyes, had anyone told you that? Of course not, Matt cannot see those. And are you high? Your eyes are like spotlights and you're grinning like an idiot," her best friend blurted out instead of a greeting.

Matt could hear Vera's heart fastening at that accusation, soft sound of her fingers brushing her hair away in gesture of slight embarrassment and uncertainty.

And then Terri squeaked, high-pitched loud sound that hurt Matt's ears even from the distance, making Vera jump, confusing the hell out of her. But Matt knew what happened – it wasn't just her fingers, it was the thin metal that ran through her hair as well, just like it always would from this day on.

"OH MY GOD! Show me! Show me and tell me _everything!"_ Terri demanded, pacing to her best friend, pulling her into a _crushing_ hug if the choked noise Vera barely let out was anything to go by. _"Murdock, you freaking beast. You really are a daredevil, aren't you?"_

Matt grinned, leaving the two friends to deal with the news, his heart bursting with pride. Terri was the first to know Vera agreed to be his. He never thought he could be smiling so widely.

After two hours of vain effort to focus on work – screw it, it was Saturday, he could take some time off, he just got engaged – he stopped at the café.

The cup of coffee he got tasted better than ever.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

If you haven't noticed until now, I know shit about religion. If the prayer is totally misplaced, I'm sorry.

Also, I'm not a guy, and with Matt's senses it's like _impossible_ to- uhm. So if it's terrible, just pretend you never read the 'smut' and Matt just proposed and she said yes. And that Terri freaked out over the ring. Obviously.

 **If you're willing, continue to canon divergence** (ha, canon divergence from my story, cool). Just don't forget to take your insulin shot before doing that. Just saying.

Thanks for reading! Feedback appreciated.

AND THERE'S AN EXTRA CHAPTER (CHAPTER 3) COMING. IT FOLLOWS THIS VERSION. It's gonna be fun ;)


	2. Operation: Lilith (canon divergence)

**So. This is the canon divergence, extremely fluffy version, starting off with the tenth cup.**

 **Also known as OPERATION: LILITH.**

 **Enjoy.**

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 **X.**

So yes. Cups of coffee were like a red thread running through their relationship. Some of them were good, memories of others stung, but it was undeniable. Matt decided it needed to be considered.

What he was about to do was crazy. It terrified him and he was convinced he would rather face Wilson Fisk or the Hand all over again than doing it; or dealing with possible consequences if it went to shit. On the other hand it felt like he didn't have a choice. He had lived a dream about his world without her by his side and it was a terrible world.

 **Instead of passing over her rooftop,** he slid to her apartment, just to kiss her forehead without any intention of waking her up, because he was a coward, fearing she would be able to read him, rather avoiding her lately, a complete opposite of what he wanted to do.

She blindly reached for his cheek and her voice sounded as if she was smiling when she murmured whether he was okay, " _yes"_ , was he sure about that, " _yes",_ and whether he was staying, " _no",_ followed by a grumpy sound and quiet " _be careful"._ That moment, he knew there was nothing more right. It even plucked up his courage, his hopes rising – it would go just fine. The feeling lasted about a half an hour, before he panicked again.

The Devil of Hell's Kitchen, Daredevil, he was doing things alone. Matt Murdock? Sometimes, when it came to the dangerous stuff. But that was mostly in the past. _Lately,_ Vera had been there. He knew he could lean on her, finding hope, support, safety, comfort, encouragement and help. It was scaring the shit out of him, trusting people, but she made it look so easy. With this, he couldn't go for help to her though. Not because it was dangerous (he had learned in rather hard way it was not wise to keep secrets from her no matter how dangerous they were, it backfired), but because it was _about her._

Most of the time, Matt hated making promises, because he had a spectacular talent for breaking them. Vera… he wished to promise her everything and wanted really badly to be able to keep his word to her and he always tried to weight his words carefully when making promises to her. He wanted to make one more, a sacred one _. A vow._

Standing in front of the café Vera worked in, he took a deep breath and made sure once more that the person he was looking for was there. He swallowed his worries and pride, walking in. The fear and delight were dizzying.

Feeling unknown weakness in his knees, he approached the counter, making sure it was indeed _her_ he was facing and anybody else.

"Hi. Can I steal you for a moment?"

His next cup of coffee eventually ended up on the floor, but Matt couldn't find himself to care.

 **-Terri**

 _Do you remember those sweet times when you thought there weren't many things that can throw you off balance? Me neither…_ Terri answered to herself as Matthew Murdock, a.k.a. the only blind lawyer she knew, a.k.a. Daredevil, a.k.a. her best friend's boyfriend, entered her workplace – the café named My Daily Dose of Caffeine. Terri wasn't particularly close to him; they didn't talk that much, even though they _did_ have some history.

Veronica fucking-trouble-magnet Machackova was another case – she had just waltzed into the café one day, gotten the job, befriended (or was befriended by?) Terri and then the world had started spinning a whole lot faster than before. Meet-cute with Matt, meet-cute no.2 and 3, gun at head, broken ribs and all that jazz, cheesiest love story in the world. A little bit more blood, little bit more gunshot wounds, _katana_ wounds and broken hearts, kinky costume, god knows what, and they were right here, Murdock standing by the counter, observing Terri – who happened to be Vera's best friend – with his freaky super-senses .

Yeah, super-senses, because he couldn't see and the rest of his more-than-four-senses somehow overcompensated.

"Hi. Can I steal you for a moment?" he asked factually, not letting her recite her drilled phrase at least for show – at least for Olivia and Caroline. Then again, who cared about Olivia. Matt looked a little out of breath, corners of mouth twitching, but not in amusement. Nervous?

"Aaalright," Terri said, hesitant and she circled the counter, taking him aside, finding a quiet corner, which wasn't too hard since it was about eleven a.m. and there were usually not many people around here at that time. Small grateful smile flashed on his lips and disappeared too quickly. "So? What's up?"

Matt cleared his throat and fidgeted with his cane as if he was gathering courage; something that Terri found ridiculous, because Murdock – in disguise or not – usually had enough of that. She was getting really curious.

"I need your help."

See, Terri didn't have super-hearing, which was why she believed she was hearing _wrong_.

"Come again?" she blurted out, disbelief in each word, giving him an unsure look he couldn't appreciate.

He licked his lips nervously. "Terri, _please_. I need your help," he repeated and Terri would swear that there was something desperate in his voice. His sightless gaze was probably burning through her at the moment, but it hidden behind those ridiculous red glasses.

Terri considered his words. He needed help. That was awfully familiar – the one and only time he had approached her, asking for help, she should have spied on a creepy group of religious fanatics and wannabe vigilantes. Oh, right, and it hadn't been Matt Murdock who had sought her back then – it had been the Devil of Hell's Kitchen whose identity she hadn't known at that time.

"Alright. And who does? Matt… or Dick?" she asked, attempting to lighten the atmosphere. Seriously. His expression was a total buzzkiller.

It worked for like a second, before he wiped his hands to his pants as if his palms were sweating. What the hell. "Both, actually. Well, technically. But Matt needs it more. Much more than Dick."

"It's kinda creepy when you talk about yourself in third person, you know that?"

He huffed and for a moment, it looked like he wanted to leave.

"Okay, okay. Sorry. You need help. I'm gonna take a lucky guess and say it's about Vera," Terri decided to take mercy upon him, because honestly, he was pathetic, standing here like a boy scout before his first date, his hands scrunching something all the freaking time.

"Yeah," Matt confirmed weakly and took a deep breath, getting his shit together. "Mainly, I need your opinion and then I'm going to need your help. Maybe. I think that dinner is a little cliché and while she might be permissive, it's not something I would wish for her to be. _Tolerate_ something so nondescript. Dinner has been suspended."

Terri stared at him as he was babbling in his too fancy words, not following. Terri was a good people-reader. It was not so long time ago when she had discovered there was more to that than just the general knowledge of faces and reactions and meeting too many people which made it difficult not to be able to predict their behaviour and learn their life story by one proper look… not the point. The point was that Matt Murdock – whether he was wearing a mask or not – was a freaking enigma. He was like immune to her superpowers that weren't superpowers, and not close to her enough to be involved with her real _superpowers_. Terri had no idea where this headed. He didn't seem to mind. He continued.

"Then, I naturally thought about something more personal, authentic, something she wouldn't expect perhaps, but appreciated it at the same time. But the rooftop, no matter how I might present it, would be too excessive, too 'Mike' or 'Dick', not to mention that for a very short time period I considered a back alley, which I immediately ruled out, because it demonstrated Mike even more and was creepy and that's why I came to you, because there was one more idea and I like it, but I need to know what do you think about it and if you would be willing to help and if I should even try to do _any_ of the things I just said," he talked and talked, not even taking breaths in between and his face was getting flushed.

Terri stopped him with a gesture – luckily enough, he noticed it without _seeing_ it – all of his super-senses were still confusing to her. He inhaled and exhaled as if it was helping him to calm down. Good. And then he fidgeted with his cane again. It was actually irritating. And she was getting _frustrated_.

"I swear, Murdock, if don't stop playing with this thing, I'm taking it from you."

Terri expected some witty comeback, like something about her being really mean for stealing the blind man's cane, but it never came. He stopped his hands, clenching them into fists with effort, trying his best to keep them from moving. Huh.

"Thanks. Now. Matt, firstly, you're not making any sense. I don't understand what you're talking about. And secondly, you're nervous like if you were taking your secret crush on a prom or you were about to propose your high school sweetheart," she teased him and his figure went absolutely rigid. He just froze, all muscles tensing. He stood here, _turned into stone_.

Silence prolonged.

Then it finally hit her.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

"You gotta be kidding me."

Matt winced, but didn't say a word, giving her time to process what was happening.

"Holy— I'm in. Whatever you're planning, I'm in."

 **-Vera**

Something fishy was happening lately. Vera hated when something fishy was happening, because it made Matt absent-minded, insomniac and bloody. At least that was what she made out from the little time he had spent with her in like… the past week. He had barely showed up in her window in the night and when he had, she had been mostly asleep, so she had distantly felt him embrace her from behind, carefully as if she would break apart if he had squeezed harder, until she had pressed against him closely, claiming his hand for herself, kissing his bruised knuckles. Only then he had hugged her like he had meant it. And she only had been at his place once in the past two weeks. It was really scary.

Once, she had found him sitting in the kitchen, terrified he had been stitching himself up since she had heard him come in and he hadn't joined her in bed for like half an hour – when she had turned the light on, she had found him with his chin on his knees, seeking other worlds – but not meditating.

Sure, one night he actually had _had_ a needle in his hand, patching up a wound _on his back_ , in a place he could have barely reached. When she had asked him what the hell he had been doing, he had said he hadn't wanted to wake her up and had thought he could have handle it. She had checked the lame stitches – seriously, what he had been thinking – and had made new ones. So yes, absent-minded, insomniac and bloody.

And she had checked Daredevil sightings, alright? She had thought that he was overstretching himself again, but the lack of thank you notes contrasted with the amount of his time outside. Vera knew he was sometimes hanging out with Danny too. Danny Rand, whom he had met when fighting alongside Stick, Danny Rand the freaking Iron Fist, who had punched _a dragon_ in its heart and just happened to be a fucking billionaire. Also, while Danny had another place to live now, he was still chilling out in Matt's apartment often, which she believed was one of the most significant reasons they never talked about living together – because the apartment would not be for two people, but for three at best.

Something big was coming over, darkness and claws, making her so anxious that not even Matt's embrace could shield her from the feeling. It had probably something to do with the fact _Matt_ didn't fucking share. He had _promised her_ to share _._ Vera hadn't pressed, alright, but last time he had been like this, he had discovered a group of fanatics, who had worshipped him and crucified people. She had lived it, okay? She had received a thorn crown on her head before that problem had gone away.

So yes, she was worried and truth to be told, she was also a little pissed off.

But she had to exist. So she went to work, she kept her fit-box lessons, she took whatever form of relationship Matt was offering.

Until she just couldn't keep her mouth shut.

"Terri, I'm going insane," Vera exclaimed, placing the empty tea cup on the counter dramatically, eyeing her best friend. She was desperate. The ignorance was everything but blissful. It was _killing_ her.

The café was almost empty – it always was around eleven, only few people sitting at the tables. Vera remembered one of the girls sitting nearby – she wanted a 'to go' cup, despite her two friends demanding ceramic ones since they were staying in. Vera assumed she just wanted a name on her cup, enjoying the surprised look of every potential barista who had ever served her, because her name was Mary. Spelled M-A-R-R-Y. Truth to be told, Vera would hate having this name and wouldn't tell anyone who wouldn't need to know, because people probably kept asking about that, drawing an unwanted attention to her.

Terri raised her eyebrow, looking at Vera pointedly. "You can't. You already are. What's up, Mechy?"

Vera huffed, but before she could spill the beans, another customer approached. She put on her best smile.

The guy was kinda cute. Ruffled hair, serious expression somehow forced, eyes giving away amusement at something he wouldn't share. Vera would swear he reminded her of someone – she just couldn't figure out whom. He could have been about thirty, thirty five tops, somewhere between athletic and weightlifter built. Average height. She had no idea where she had met him, so she assumed he was coming to MDDC from time to time, not frequently enough for her to catch his name.

"Hi. Welcome to MDDC, what can I get you?" she asked since Terri, who was biting her lip while observing him, didn't say a word. He reciprocated her staring and then turned to Vera.

"Hi. One Americano, no sugar please? Tall cup to go," he spoke in surprisingly rough voice, offering a small smile.

"Sure, coming right up." She told him the price accepted his payment with a generous tip and started preparing his drink – not before she witnessed him _winking_ at Terri. What the hell?

"Any name I can add to the cup?" Vera pried when she was placing the drink on the counter. His smile grew wider.

"Yeah. Will. Double-v, two L," he specified, which weird, how else should she spell it, but hey, better safe than sorry. "Thanks."

Will gave her a little wave for a goodbye as she said her drilled phrases and he took the cup, walking to the corner of the café, leaning onto a wall. Vera did not understand. When she turned to Terri though, her friend seemed perfectly calm.

"What was that about?" Vera questioned, baffled.

Terri shrugged. "Who knows. He was cute. What was it you wanted to tell me?"

Right. Vera was desperate. "It's Matt."

Terri rolled her eyes. "Of course it is. What's with him?"

Vera huffed, slightly irritated by Terri's reaction. It wasn't always about Matt when something was wrong with her… was it? _No, don't answer that, Veronika._ She shook off that thought.

"He's troubled. I don't know how to help him. He wouldn't tell me anything, but I'm really worried about him. I mean, he's been a little out of character ever since he woke up from the coma, but still… I can tell something's happening, something _bad_. You haven't seen anything, have you?"

Terri's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Come on, Vera, you know we don't spend enough time together to get him on my sixth sense radar…"

"What's a sixth sense radar?" a familiar voice sounded behind Vera and she spun on her heels to face Foggy – and Karen. What were they doing here? It wasn't like they worked together anymore. And when they used to, they had always come alone when getting coffee for everyone.

The anxiety squeezed Vera's heart tighter – what did that mean? Did they know something she didn't? Coming to tell her some bad news about Matt? Matt didn't sleep at her place that night, but he had left her a text saying he was alright. Why did it felt like he wasn't then?! If that was the case, why were Foggy and Karen smiling so brightly that Vera fought the urge to put on sunglasses?

"Well, that's the thing that screams at me that you two finally got together," Terri replied dryly and Vera noticed that they were holding hands. Well, she'd be damned. It would make sense had they come together to get coffee then. She allowed herself to relax, just a little bit.

Terri snapped her fingers in front of Vera's face. "I think 'congratulations' would be appropriate, don't you think, Mechy?" she poked her ribs and Vera woke up from her trance.

Foggy would be worried if something was wrong with Matt, right? Matt was fine. Vera reminded herself to _breathe._

"Yes! I mean… it's just… wow. _Finally!"_ She managed a wide smile as well and Karen's cheeks slightly flushed.

"Yeah, well. We can do double dates now," Karen giggled.

Foggy hummed in agreement. "Sure thing. I mean, technically, we already had a few. The benefit. Josie's… but sure, why not. Can we get a cup of coffee?" he asked, still awfully delighted, proudly taking Karen around her waist as if it was the most natural thing ever.

 _Jesus_. The world was getting crazy.

"Sure."

Foggy wanted macchiato, Karen hazelnut latté. Same old, same old. Except they stopped her from writing the names on their cups.

"Can we do it by ourselves?"

Vera looked at Foggy, consternated. Why the hell he wanted to— oh. He wanted to do something cute, didn't he? Pff, who was Vera to stop him. She handed him her marker and he grinned.

"See? Karen, you're _you_. And me? I'm _me_. No, wait, the exact opposite, I wrote it down right, just mixed it up out loud," he giggled, he _giggled_ and Karen kissed him on his cheek as he returned Vera's marker.

Vera was confused. Completely. She pinched herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming, She wasn't.

"Oh, can I just use the restroom? We're on our way to a veeeery long walk," Karen asked innocently, big blue eyes pleading and Vera waved in the direction of the door – the door to public restroom any customer could use any time, _without permission._ What the actual hell? "Thanks!"

"Actually, I might go too. We'll leave the cups here, can we?"

Vera had no words, so she just gaped silently and watched them disappear. And once again, Terri was absolutely calm. Oh, Vera envied her _so much_.

"Anyway, why do you think there is something troubling him?" Terri queried as they returned to the cashbox. And really, Lyla was taking her sweet time. Vera needed a break too. She was going insane, because the whole world apparently was.

Vera sighed, explaining. "He's… absent. With me but not. He's coming to my place late, if even. However, there is no big amount of his sightings, which I know, not everyone is sharing, but… and he wouldn't say a word about it. I mean… I'm being paranoid, aren't I?" she added as she saw Terri's sceptical look.

Her friend made a face, a little angry, a little disgusted. "Maybe there is someone… uhm… he found Lilith to his Devil?" she suggested, voice strangely distant.

"What?!" Vera squeaked, the terrible idea hitting her like a truck.

As in he had… someone else? Wild Lilith matching his inner Devil? No. He wouldn't— Matt would never— _no_. Matt would never cheat on her. He was a lot of things, few of them scary and not exactly virtuous, but he wouldn't do _that_. Not to mention he had _no time_ for that.

Right?

"You know. Devil. Lilith. The queen of the-"

"I know who Lilith is!" Vera interrupted her hastily, her mind racing.

Absent. Absent-minded. Coming home late. Let's face it, their sexual life wasn't excellent at the moment, because she had been _fucking_ asleep when he had finally showed up, or totally exhausted and so had he. They kept training though, the heady electricity in the air, passionate kisses and intoxicating proximity, violence and tenderness.

 _No_.

"Who's Lilith?"

Vera jumped, hand shooting up to her chest, holding her heart inside. " _Jesus_ , Matt."

He stood there, innocent expression and warm smile, curious look in his sightless eyes. Head tilted. He seemed to be perfectly healthy, so that was good. Some of her anxiety flew away, but there was something wrong with the picture, something unusual…

Vera blinked in surprise when she realized what it was – he wasn't wearing his glasses. She found them in the front pocket of his jacket, folded, peeking out. What-

"No one. Vera, could you take care of this customer? I'm taking my break," Terri announced and disappeared to the back.

What did she mean she was taking her break? _Lyla_ was on her break!

"Vera? Can I have a cup of coffee, please?" Matt asked, small smile on his lips.

There was something else in his face. It was a surreal picture of him, being in the café, more like Matt than Murdock, without glasses, cane resting against the counter, but there was just something odd in his expression and it was on the tip of her tongue; she couldn't figure it out.

Vera cleared her throat. "Of course. Americano? No sugar?"

"If it's not too much trouble…"

It was _not_ much trouble, she was working in a café, it was _her job_ to serve customers. Customers who apparently thought the counter where people were supposed to take their 'to go' coffee was also a place where they could leave their empty cups. There were four of them – she remembered two of those were Karen's and Foggy's, still full.

"To go?" she assured and Matt nodded.

"I would like a question mark on my cup," he murmured and after going over what he had said five times, Vera decided he went crazy as well.

"A question mark?" she parroted intelligently and he nodded again.

Vera fought the urge to throw her hands in the air and yell ' _whatever'_ – instead, she entered the order in the cash box, taking money and preparing his drink, adding a sticker as always (at least something needed to be normal, okay) and drew a question mark Matt couldn't appreciate anyway.

She turned around to face him again, attempting to hand him his coffee – it never happened.

Matt was standing behind the counter and there were four cups in line. Four cups, two of them with Vera's handwriting, two with someone else's – Foggy's. Four words in the right order, only missing a question mark to make a complete sense. Her hand shot up to her mouth, Matt's Americano falling to the ground and spilling all over the floor – if some of the steaming liquid hit her feet, she didn't notice.

Vera suddenly knew what the other thing that felt odd about him that day was – he was _nervous_. Of course he was freaking nervous, doing what he was doing.

 _What the hell is he doing?!_

Her gaze flickered to the bathroom door, where Karen was hidden in Foggy's arms as they were watching her with a matching grin. _**You**_ and _**Me**_.

 _ **Will**_ was standing in the corner, phone in his hands, taking a video or pictures or whatever. He noticed Vera looked his direction and he beckoned to Matt.

But Vera couldn't look at him, not yet – she searched the room, finding _**Marry**_ sitting at her table, her cup no longer in front of her.

Vera's head was spinning as she eyed all the cups, gently asking her a simple question, expecting a simple answer. Matt's eyes were hopeful and scared, lips tight line, but not angry for once, in _anticipation_ , waiting. Someone took her wrist carefully, leading her around the counter – Terri, of course – and Vera heard her shoes smacking against the floor, soaked with Matt's coffee and she couldn't tear her eyes away from him as he fucking _sunk to one knee_ , pulling out a _small box_ from his pocket.

Terri might have said something, but Vera couldn't hear her, blood buzzing and her heartbeat loud in her ears. Matt shifted in his position, fidgeted and took a deep breath, gulping as Terri's touch disappeared and she walked away, quiet footsteps leaving.

"Veronika Macháčková, would you do me the honour of making me the luckiest man on Earth and become my wife?" he asked, voice shaking inconspicuously and he added quietly: "Will you marry me?"

Vera chuckle-sobbed to her palm, nodding furiously and watched his eyes light up like never before and her heart fluttered at the sight. She let out the weird noise again and his lips were twitching as he was he still kneeling and she thought she heard someone – she was confident it was Foggy – burst out laughing, the noise followed by something dangerously sounding like a slap and Vera finally realized Matt might have already learnt her answer, but he had to pretend he hadn't, because he _fucking couldn't see her nodding_.

"Yes!" she burst out and he laughed, relieved and delighted, standing up, taking her forearm somewhat clumsily and she wasn't sure she whether it was an act or his nervousness. He slid his hand alongside hers, finding the right finger, putting a ring, _a freaking ring_ on it. She felt like she couldn't breathe, something big, still growing in size filling her chest, suffocating sweetly, and he brought her hand to his lips, kissed the back of her hand delicately, before kissing the ring – simple beautiful ring with one small stone.

 _Jesus Christ_ , he kissed the _ring_ _on her hand_ , because he wanted to _marry her_. His fingers ran up her arm, over her shoulder, stopping at the back of her neck, pulling her closer. He didn't kiss her though, hesitating, wearing a gorgeous smile.

"May I?" he whispered only for her ears and Vera shook her head in disbelief, leaning to him, hearts-shaped charm on her neck tinkling, small sound that made him smile even wider and she crossed the distance, taking his face to her palms, meeting his lips enthusiastically as loud cheers sounded somewhere around them, outside of their happy bubble.

Matt wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her close, deepening the kiss, caressing her lips with tenderness, whispering to them something that sounded like _I love you, te amo, miluji tě_ , over and over again. She chuckled to his lips, unable to return the sentiment, because she couldn't speak and she was flying, relieved, because it suddenly all made sense, well, maybe not every single detail, but most of it was and they were okay, they were much, much better than _okay_ and she felt like the worst person in the world, because for a minute, she had almost believed there might be someone else, some Lilith and Vera was going to _murder_ Terri for suggesting such a terrible thing.

His thumb stroke her cheek and he withdrew as someone – Foggy again – yelled something about keeping it PG-13. Vera opened her eyes, meeting Matt's honest ones, twinkling with happiness and he rested his forehead against hers, out of breath.

She finally found her voice. "I love you. Miluju tě…. and I guess that makes me your Lilith," she added with another chuckle and Matt licked his lips, grin so wide he might actually tear his mouth.

"I have no idea what that means," he hummed, fondling her nose with hers, "but I like the possessiveness."

"Well, as far as I know, she's a demon. A creature from Hell. Let's say she would be a good match for the Devil."

He tilted his head, still so close to her their lips that they were practically touching. "Well, I know her story, I'm not sure about the demonic part. You sure aren't her. She was evil. The matching part I agree with though," he mumbled and she felt her cheeks blush furiously, kissing him one more time, before he let go of her.

The second he released her from his embrace and she was becoming aware of her surroundings, she was pulled into some else's arms, bright orange hair tickling her neck.

"Congratulation!" Terri yelped to her ear and despite the painful high-pitched sound, Vera laughed, returning the hug wholeheartedly. The thought hit her instantly as Terri withdrew, grinning widely.

"You knew, didn't you?" Vera asked her and Terri just wrinkled her nose.

"What do you think?" she challenged her and Vera knew the answer without her friend saying it out loud. "Aaaaanyway, when you, you know, gather yourself and shake off the shock, I would like to introduce you Patrick – Vic's brother."

Terri gestured to the man behind her, the one who had introduced himself as Will, the one who had seemed familiar and now Vera knew why. Of course. The similarity was unmistakable – she was just too unfocused.

"Not Will, huh?" she hummed and extended her hand to shake with his. He smiled warmly, gently accepting it. "Nice to meet you. I'm Vera, but I guess you know that."

"Not Will. Pleasure to meet you nevertheless. I'll leave you to your celebrations. I'm sure we'll meet again." He nodded as a goodbye, shooting _Marry_ a cute smile and left.

"Celebrations. Right. Making coffee for another-" Vera checked the time, "-another two hours is sure an original way to celebrate... _engagement,"_ she almost choked out the last word, still awestruck.

Terri huffed. "Please. Who do you think we are? Cavemen? See the girl right there? That's Michelle. She works here, you know. She came in earlier so you could leave and _celebrate,_ whatever that means and no, I don't want to know."

Vera looked in the direction Terri was gesturing and found Michelle waving at her from the door. Wow. How many people knew? How many people were involved in this craziness?

"May I steal my fiancée from you, Theresa?" Matt's voice asked politely and Vera's heart fluttered at his words, rolling off his tongue so easily, making her want to giggle for eternity.

"All yours, Murdock," Terri exclaimed, hands off as if she was saying 'don't worry, I'm not touching what's yours'. Then she turned to Vera once more. "By the way, I'm really glad you said yes, because otherwise this would be embarrassing as hell. And you, sir, are lucky you realized I'm always right, you had nothing to worry about and you had the balls to do it."

Then she gave him a quick hug and slid behind the counter, where Vera could see Lyla cleaning up the floor, wiping away traces of her freak out. And suddenly Vera was in Foggy's arms and then Karen's and then she finally changed and left the café, arm in arm with her _fiancée_. It was a damn shame he wore his glasses again, but that small imperfection made the day even better, because it made it somewhat _real_.

Vera let him lead, until she realized they were heading to her place. He was quiet, beaming though and she couldn't find herself to break the silence as if it was something sacred. They entered her apartment, took their shoes off (together with Matt's glasses) and he still didn't say a word. She didn't know what to say, but the silence was getting deafening.

The second she opened her mouth to speak, light touch on her throat and on her lips silenced her, his breath and passing contact tickling her mouth. His other hand locked her left wrist, fingertips tracing the line of her ring.

"I can't believe you said yes."

His words vibrated against her mouth and she kissed his lower lip, unable to resist the smile that kept attacking her own.

"What did you think I was gonna say?" _You moron_ , she added in her mind.

One corner of his lips twitched. "It's not like there are many other options," he hummed, moving his hand to her hip, something new and electrifying in the air, making her toes curl and her insides boil in a pleasant way.

"From where I'm standing, there was only one. _Yes._ "

His lips sunk into hers thirstily, pressure of his body making her walk few steps backwards until her back hit the wall, his protective arm shielding her from the worst impact.

"Say it again," he breathed when he freed her lips, voice shaking with emotion. Something tingled in her fingertips at his tone, in every single nerve ending, doing things to her she didn't know were possible.

" _Ano_. _Si. Oui. Yes."_

He kissed her forehead, eyes glassy as if he was holding back tears and then he returned to her lips, cherishing her as never before, proving his love in every way imaginable. And she reciprocated the sentiment more than willingly, all doubts and fears floating away.

Matt had once told her they had been discussing endings with the worse criminal mastermind he had ever encountered; not everyone deserved a happy ending.

But Vera liked to think they did.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-  
I think you just got your daily dose of sugar, possibly overdosed yourself. You might have a point with fluff being my default setting.

I dunno, I didn't want to keep this version for myself, but Matt and public proposal… it was his original plan, the one he had figured out, based on their 'moments'. However, I think he wouldn't have the balls to do it and he would back out, trying to figure out something else.

So… thanks for reading


	3. Hey, have you heard (follows 'Cups' ch)

_AKA various people finding out about the engagement. Follows the Cups version. because, canon, though some might be read for both. Fluff all around. Mostly Vera's POV, one part of Matt's._

 _Probably requires some knowledge of the other Defenders, at least vague – but if you read 'Damned', you're fine._

 _-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-_

 **Hey, have you heard…?**

.

 **Jessica and Trish:**

Vera almost dropped the coffee cup when she turned to hand it to her customer; because instead of dark hair and sunglasses, she met a camera. And Jessica had her finger on the shutter release.

"What the hell?" Vera complained, watching the PI incredulously.

 _Why_ would Jessica take a picture of her? Why Vera of all people? And didn't even try to be subtle about it?

The woman lowered her camera, smirking. It was almost surreal, seeing her without the dark glasses, which would protect her hangover eyes from light.

"Trish's gonna be pissed, you know?"

Vera's eyebrow shot up, finally placing Jessica's cup on the counter. "Why?"

This day had seemed good so far – despite the absence of sleep, Vera hadn't mess up any order, people had been returning her shiny smiles and had been leaving tips and Terri had been poking her ribs every half an hour or so, shooting her conspiratorial looks. And Matt had stopped by too, kissing her over the counter with no shame – when Terri had bantered, he had shut her up with ' _I have every right to kiss my fiancée, Theresa'._

"Because you didn't tell her. She hasn't talked a hole into my head about it – and she would if she knew, she _loves_ that shit," Jessica explained matter-of-factly, opening the cup, spicing it with the drink of the day. Vera watched her, clueless.

"Didn't tell her wh-" She froze in the middle of the sentence as Jessica's eyebrow rose lazily, looking at Vera's hand and back at her face as if Vera was an idiot. "Oh. I— come on! I literally got engaged like… nine hours ago. And if I go from when I got the ring, it's even less."

"I really didn't need to know that. Congratulation, or something. Don't let him fuck with you just because he put a ring on your finger, you're your own fucking person. See you around."

And with those words, she was gone. Vera would swear she saw a hint of a smile on her lips though.

Vera called Trish on her way from work, honestly afraid the PI would tell her before Vera got a chance. Trish was obviously in the middle of something, exasperated male voice admonishing her for accepting a call. She didn't seem to mind.

"Noooo way! When, how? We need to get coffee-"

"Miss Walker, am I bothering you?!" Vera heard the man in the background.

"Yes, as the matter of fact." Honestly, Vera was not even surprised by Trish's reaction. "Give me a minute to deal with this. It's a potential interview, a high-class engagement."

"What?" Vera shrieked, horrified.

There was a short silence. "Don't worry, I just needed him to shut up and leave. So, coffee?"

.

 **Terri:**

Say that Terri hugged the shit out of Vera when she walked through the door of the café was an understatement; Vera couldn't _breathe_ , her chest squeezed in a vice.

Terri wanted to know everything, but Regina came too and the café was filling with customers and while her friend was impatient, she was also morbidly curious and wanted to wait until they had enough time so she could learn every. Single. Detail. And Vera would comply with her wish (except the few things Vera really _couldn't_ share).

"Wait, so he just asked you? Just like that?" Terri asked incredulously over a hot chocolate they had in MDDC.

Vera smiled goofily. "Yeah."

"That's… okay. Okay. Whatever."

"It was incredibly cute, Terri. I mean, he seemed to be genuinely sorry, he said he wanted to make it perfect and he fucking stuttered, Terri, Matt Murdock _stuttered_ , imagine _that_."

Vera was still processing. Matt had proposed. Matt had freaking proposed. And while it probably wasn't a perfect story to tell, because it didn't exactly match the idea of a magical proposal, Vera _loved_ it. She couldn't imagine it happening any other way. Matt had made it unforgettable without being aware of it. Of course, the other thing that would take her maybe even longer to process was what had ensued, because _holy shit_ she couldn't believe that he— just, whoa, she hadn't see it coming. She bit her cheek at the formulation.

"He asked you in the middle of the night, wearing his armour," Terri complained in a low voice.

"Well… yeah. But he didn't wear the gloves and the helmet at least. And have you seen him without it? You just want to run your fingers through the wild mess of his hair-"

"Excuse you, have you seen _his ass_ in that thing? … Of course you care about the hair. You cannot appreciate the precious gift you were given…"

"As the matter of fact _, I can-"_

"Eww, okay, TMI!" Terri cried out. "Kidding. Damn. One day I'll get him drunk and touch that thing-"

"Ooookay, _that's_ TMI. My fiancée. My hair. My a— everything," Vera hissed and Terri burst out laughing.

"Possessive…. I'm really happy for you, you know that?" Terri offered with an honest smile and Vera smiled back.

"Thanks, Terri."

.

 **Nina Larkin:**

Vera met Nina at the post boxes. The woman acted like always – except after a greeting and a smile, she lowered her eyes and her cheeks went pink.

"Hey, Nina. How you're doing?" Vera asked, her mind racing. Why would _Nina_ blush?

It took Vera about five seconds to turn red too. _Jesus Christ._ She really had been loud that night hadn't she? Ježišmarja. She couldn't look her neighbours in their eyes for god knows how long now.

Vera tried her best to pretend she didn't notice Nina's consternated look and coloured cheeks. She opened her post box, getting the mail out. Bills. What else was new?

"Uhm. Good…. Oh, _well_ , that explains a lot," Nina murmured and Vera's gaze shot to her face. Nina was still blushing, but her smile was more genuine this time, reaching her eyes.

"I'm… what?"

God, she was embarrassed. She wanted to sink through the floor. She should use window to get to her apartment now, shouldn't she? At least for few days? Matt was using her window as an entrance almost every night, it couldn't be so hard, could it? She could carry groceries in her backpack…

"I guess the ring on your left hand is there for a reason?" Nina teased and Vera's heart jumped.

Oh. How was it people noticed it so easily? It was a thin ring, one simple stone, beautifully enclosed between two thin tentacles. It was freaking gorgeous, that was undeniable, but nothing huge and extravagant that would draw attention, but for some reason, it did.

Vera smiled automatically, her hand subconsciously curling into loose fist. She cleared her throat. "Yeah. Uhm, yeah."

"Suits you. Congratulation." To Vera's surprise, Nina pulled her into gentle hug. "Just keep it down next time, would you?" Nina whispered and Vera buried her head to Nina's shoulder with a whine.

She did _not_ just-

Nina patted her back. "It's okay. I get it."

" _Oh my god…"_

.

 **Vera's family:**

Vera didn't waste any time. She was happy, she wanted to share and her mother – her whole family, honestly – would never forgive her if she kept something like this from them for long. She texted her mum if they could Skype call and while Vera wasn't aware it had sounded urgent, it apparently had, because her mum was calling her five minutes later.

Vera kept hiding her left hand, talking casually, slipping a question about the rest of the family. She could hear Petr's shout from somewhere when her mum called out, and both men of their family joined their conversation soon. Vera took a deep breath and dropped the bombshell.

Mum's reaction didn't surprise her. Of course she cried and called her _her babygirl_ like a million times. Dad's reaction Vera had predicted right too, he just… asked her if she was sure. When she said yes, she was fairly certain he was still processing.

What was really weird was her brother's behaviour. He smirked, sipping his coffee or tea or possibly protein drink or whatever, looking almost unimpressed.

"So he really did it, huh?"

Vera's eyes went wide, eyebrows up, jaw down. What the hell did he just say?

"Wh— what?"

Petr shrugged as both of their parents shot him a look. "What? He said he was serious about you. I indirectly asked him if he was getting any ideas when attending the wedding-"

"You asked Matt _whether he WANTED TO MARRY ME_ when we were in Czechia?!" Vera burst out, horrified.

 _Jesus Christ, what the actual hell?!_ Her mind raced, wondering when could that possibly happened, because she doubted they just slipped in into the conversation about Matt being a vigilante-

"In the morning. When we slept over at your place and you two were talking in the kitchen. I walked right into the middle of it, didn't I? He looked like he got— ježišmarja, Petře…"

She face-palmed. No wonder Matt had looked like he had received an electrical discharge. Jesus, she was lucky he hadn't gotten on the first plane back to New York.

"I didn't ask him _that_ … but he looked a little spooked, which was hilarious. Until he gave you the really wide grin and the gross kiss-"

"It wasn't _gross_ -" Vera protested. It was pretty amazing, they had done it several times since that.

"No, it was actually kinda cute and I'll deny it if you ever remind me I said that. Now show me the ring again, Mechy-girl."

Vera obediently exposed her hand again, shielding her still shocked face from the camera.

.

 **Anna, Jitka, Marky:**

The next people on her list were Marky, Anna and Jitka. Vera knew it was late evening in Czechia, but she tried their conversation anyway – after all, it was Saturday.

 _ **Me: Are you here?**_

 _ **A: Yep.**_

 _ **J: Yes.**_

Vera waited few more minutes, but Marky didn't respond; she wasn't online then. Guess Vera had to wait with the big news.

 _ **J: What's up?**_

 _ **Me: The ceiling. Never mind.**_

Another conversation window opened without Vera doing a thing. Anna was texting her in private. Vera's eyebrows rose.

 _ **A: What's going on?**_

 _ **A: Are you pregnant? :-o :-o**_

 _ **A: Are you getting married?!**_

 _ **A: Are you getting a dog? :-D**_

 _ **A: Are you moving in with Matt?!**_

 _ **A: All of this above?**_

Vera snorted, but ignored her friend in order to be fair and tell them all at once.

 _ **A: I'm calling Marky right now to get her ass here or I'm going crazy!**_

It could be one minute later when Marky joined their conversation.

 _ **M: Hey.**_

Vera felt honestly sorry for her, imagining Anna's phone call and the volume her friend had probably spoken. Vera sent them a photo with her hand in front of her face. Left hand, obviously.

 _ **A: I KNEW IT!**_

 _ **J: Whooooooa, congratulation. It's gorgeous! :-***_

 _ **M: Congratulation! xxx**_

 _ **M: Told you you needed to be there for the bouquet tossing :-P**_

 _ **Me: Ha, ha… thanks.**_

 _ **A: Yeah, yeah, congratulation and everything**_

 _ **J: When. Where. How.**_

 _ **J: Spill it.**_

Vera grinned and started typing. She was approximately in the middle of her slightly alternated non-Daredevil story, when Anna's private conversation opened again. Vera read it, rolled her eyes and continued her work without bothering to answer.

 _ **A: But seriously. Are you pregnant too?**_

.

 **Foggy and Karen:**

They called another meeting at Josie's. Vera wasn't particularly fond of the bar, but she knew Matt was – it was his special place with Foggy and later with Foggy and Karen. Vera was sure that in a good company, she would be fine; she questioned the claim when she needed to touch the greasy door handle to get in.

And then she saw Karen enthusiastically waving at her _from Foggy's arms_ , while Foggy was _beaming_. So they finally got together. Guess they had multiple reasons to celebrate tonight. Vera subtly shoved her left hand into the pocket of her coat.

"Took you long enough," Foggy hummed when she approached their table and she just managed to raise an eyebrow.

"Seriously, Foggy? You probably wanted to ask Karen out since the day one, and you're lecturing _me_ about being late?" Karen grinned and Vera turned to Matt, pecking his lips. "Hey, Matt."

His fingers curled in her hair, keeping her on place before she could withdrew, kissing her properly. Something warm immediately spread in her abdomen, his lips reminding her of the previous night.

" _Hey."_

"Uh, okay, Murdock, okay. We're not having a competition of who can turn grosser, alright? We might get arrested for public indecency." To prove his words, he simply gave Karen a small kiss on her cheek.

Vera smiled and stripped her coat, careful not to expose her ring too soon. They deserved their moment as well. "So. I feel like saying congratulation is appropriate?" she offered and Karen smiled at her warmly.

"Thank you, Vera."

"I'm pretty sure she was talking to me, Karen. I mean, come on. I had to take all the courage! What did you do?" Foggy complained teasingly and Karen gave him a look while Vera sat next to Matt.

"Oh, I don't know… I said yes?" Karen noted sarcastically and Foggy pouted, then shrugged and kissed her lips. What was that about not getting indecent?

Matt watched them with honest uneven smile and Vera just couldn't resist smiling too.

"So, how did it happen?" Vera wanted to know when they finally got their hands— well, _lips_ off each other.

Foggy made a face and Karen giggled. "He drunk dialled me."

"Noooo, Karen, don't," Foggy whined, wanting to bang his head against the table, changing his mind in the middle of the motion as if he realized that he didn't want to have _whatever_ was on the table on his forehead too.

"He was _smashed_. But he told me he was thinking about me for a long time and he really, really wanted to go out with me-"

"That's not what I said-"

"You don't remember what you said, you just remember you called me and talked non-sense. He came to The Bulletin the next morning, well, _morning_ , with bouquet of lilies and apologized and apologized and apologized. I took him to an anti-hangover lunch and… things just… happened," she said, shrugging, giving Foggy a sweet smile.

"I'm pretty sure I said something about me being into you since the day I saw you in handcuffs-"

"Kinky."

Foggy shot Vera an exasperate look and Karen snorted. "Yeah, you did. You also said you wanted to strangle Matt for flirting with me-"

"You were flirting with _Karen?!"_ Vera turned to Matt, horrified. Matt gaped.

"I didn't-"

"Really, Murdock? _Didn't?_ It was back in the day. She was translating Spanish, missed a word, he filled her in, she asked him if he wanted to do that instead of her and he said, I quote: No, I like listening to your voice," Foggy explained, the memory apparently still bitter.

Vera was scandalized.

"I— she has a nice voice," Matt defended himself as if it was going to help him. It really didn't. "And I needed to focus on the client! Heartbeat and stuff, so I didn't want to translate for Foggy…" he added miserably, feeling Vera's anger spiking.

"Nah. He's with you now, Vera. He just had his lines. _I like your voice. Would you walk me around? Can I touch your face…"_

Vera raised her hands in defensive gesture. "Eww. Not helping, Foggy. Let me have at least some illusions about him, okay?"

"HOLY SHIT!" Karen cried out and Vera realized her mistake, shoving her hands under the table again.

Matt grinned, reaching for Vera's hand, running his fingers over her knuckles in apology. Well, it wasn't like he should be apologizing for flirting with people, before. It just stung her, the v _oice_ thing. But she needed to swallow the bile, because… well. It was Matt's version of telling people they had pretty eyes or something. Vera wasn't the only one in the world who could have a nice voice according to him. However, she was the only one with a ring on her finger; she could live with that.

She lightly pressed her lips against his cheek, causing his smile to grow wider.

"Karen?" Foggy questioned her burst out.

"Hands on the table. _Now,"_ Karen demanded, eyes wide, excitement all over her face. Vera smiled and slowly let her hands hover above the table, because _no, she was not touching that surface_. Karen reached for her left hand – no, she _lunged_ for it – and claimed it for herself, examining the ring.

"Murdock, you slay dog!" Foggy gasped, his gaze flickering between his best friend and the ring, his mouth hanging open.

"I'm pretty sure that the idea of the ring is the exact opposite," Matt hummed, ears red; his equivalent of blushing.

The corners of Vera's lips twitched. Dork. How could she be mad at him for flirting with Karen? Mad at this incredible human being? For something that was in the past and so petty? He was a walking flirt, shamelessly charming, that was a fact. Vera knew that; hell, she was one of his victims.

"Okay, smart-ass. When did that happen? Spill it."

"Talking of spilling, you guys want another drink?" Karen asked, already rising to her feet. Foggy nodded while Matt refused. Vera asked for a cider – she knew it wasn't safe to drink anything that wasn't in a bottle here. "Don't start without me!"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

.

 **Danny:**

They left Josie's after midnight, tired, but smiling, pleasantly buzzed. She followed Matt to his apartment, because he insisted on her sleeping over. Vera welcomed it – ever since he had come back, they had been doing it when the time allowed it, ranging between her and his place. She thought he preferred his place for obvious reasons, but it was unpractical for her; it took her more time to get to the café in the morning and waiting for him in his bed until he would came back from patrol was a little weird.

They didn't go straight to bed or bathroom – for some reason she didn't understand, he had fell scarily quiet during their walk –, pulling her to the couch instead. She obediently seated by his side, letting him draw her close, resting her head on his shoulder. He placed a light kiss to her hair.

"Vera?" he hummed, most likely aiming for casual or maybe absent, but god knew why failing. Vera tensed – this was serious. If Matt failed to sound as if nothing was happening, something really bad was happening. Did he hear something during their walk? It would explain the silence.

"Hm?"

"Would you- would you move in?" he asked, voice quiet, tentative. "With me?" he added quickly as if it wasn't clear, still timid.

Vera blinked in surprise. Well, that was better than she had expected; it wasn't bad at all, it was actually _good_. And it made sense. They were basically living at two places at once and they were about to get married; thinking about it, they took the steps in the wrong order when starting with the engagement. She was not complaining at all.

Her lips spread in an unwitting smile and she raised her face to him, scanning his very lame poker face. He was scared. He actually seemed more afraid to ask if she wanted to live with him in one apartment than staying with him for the rest of their lives.

"Yeah."

His lips parted in silent shock, his eyes soon smiling though. " 'kay."

Vera didn't think she had ever heard someone saying 'kay' with so much emotion. Her smile grew wider and she lightly kissed his mouth.

"Love you," she breathed. He shook his head when she retreated, catching her lips again.

"Love you more."

His lips sunk to hers, his hand finding her waist, shifting in his position, guiding her to settle on the top of him, one hand on her hip, the other on the back of her neck to press her against his body. She was soon nestled in his lap astride, short of breath and slightly dizzy as Matt apparently decided that action spoke louder than words and he was rather showing her his excitement about another of her _yes_ esthan expressing it verbally. She opened her mouth for him, meeting his tongue, melting into him, her hand clutching at his hair. God, she loved him.

She didn't notice when his hand had slipped under her clothes, but his skilful fingers found the fastening of her bra, obviously offended by its presence, unclasping it. _Impatient_. Vera didn't blame him, sensing his arousal very closely, the feeling of being wanted just pouring gasoline into the fire in her abdomen. The alcohol probably helped too, but Jesus, she had to bit her lip to silence a whine when she lost the contact of his mouth on hers, his lips moving to her jaw and throat.

"Jesus, guys! Sock on a door knob would help!" startled voice yelped somewhere above them and Vera jumped, snapping her eyes open.

It was unnecessary; she knew exactly who that was.

With her face completely red, she pulled her t-shirt down properly and tried to do her bra again, presumably subtly. She was failing, so Matt did it for her. Vera thought she was about to die of embarrassment and wanted to rearrange her position into something more decent, but she was already feeling legless and the shock just made her unable to move – not to mention that if she actually climbed up from Matt's lap, she would expose how very invested in their actions he was.

"Danny, you know this is _my_ apartment right?" Matt asked calmly as if he just didn't have a hand under Vera's t-shirt, _clasping her bra._ Apparently, he agreed with her not moving though, because his other hand remained on her hip, silent plea to stay exactly where she was. Maybe Danny would take a hint if they didn't move.

Ha! Right. No chance in hell.

"You keep the rooftop doors unlocked for me!"

"Not just for you. But—okay. New rule. You call ahead if possible, this cannot keep happening. I understand that if you had been injured-"

Matt kept talking but Vera noticed Danny was staring at her. Precisely at her left hand resting decently at Matt shoulder. She mentally prepared for-

"HOLY DRAGON! IS THAT AN ENGAGEMENT RING?!"

Vera pressed her lips together to stop herself from grinning. She pretty much failed, but she didn't really care. She was entitled to be a little euphoric.

Matt licked his lips, supressing his outrage at his speech being ignored. "Yes, Danny, it is indeed an engagement ring."

See, Danny was the Iron Fist, but the grin he gave them when confirming his theory? Much brighter and shinier than his fist. His eyebrow wiggled suggestively.

"Okay. Got it. Not wanted here. Please, continue," he gave them his blessing, spinning on his heels, the door clicking behind him.

Vera let her head fall on Matt's shoulder.

"We're never living this down, are we?" she murmured, his sigh being enough of an answer. He placed a kiss on the side her neck, comforting, with no heat. She smiled, turning her head, softly meeting his lips again.

They found the way back to the previous pace in no time, Vera undoing his shirt for a change before he had a chance to strip any piece of her clothing. He hummed contentedly when she ran her fingers over his chest. She wriggled in his lap just to tease. He bit her lip in return, wordless warning not to fuck with him, otherwise he would let her know who was in charge. The corners of her lips twitched at the idea and she did it again.

"Oh and congratulation!" the voice from earlier added, shouting from the opened door and Vera yelped, while Matt shouted "For God's sake, Danny!", his outburst followed by the Danny's playful laugh and another click of the door.

"Vera, love, _move,"_ Matt asked her somewhat gently while straining the words through his teeth.

Vera huffed, freeing him and watched him pace up the stairs and lock the door. As he walked down, she stood up, meeting him halfway. He stripped the undone shirt, letting it land on the floor, sliding his hands under her top, removing it too. Palms on her waist, he spun her, pressing her against the sliding door to the bedroom, mouth on hers.

"If he's coming back through a window or the front door, I swear I'll get him on the next plane to Cambodia," Matt growled, the dangerous vibration of his voice making her heart jump. He didn't give her a chance to react, lunging, taking her mouth with no shame or mercy, his fingers getting more and more daring.

"And I'll pack his stuff," she breathed when he was kissing a path down her neck, his lower body almost merging with hers despite their clothes still on.

He stopped abruptly, freezing. It took him full five seconds to level his face with hers, wolfish smile on his lips.

"That's why I'm marrying you."

.

 **Father Lantom:**

Matt was early in church on Sunday. Vera stayed in his apartment overnight (still only _his_ , because while he had asked her if she would move in and she had agreed, it would take some time to make the apartment _theirs_ ), she had a morning shift and he hadn't go out that night, so he didn't feel any need to sleep in. He knew Father Lantom was about to have a service, he could hear him in the back getting ready, and Matt could also hear his heart lightly speeding up when he found him sitting in one the pews already. The priest didn't make his way to him though; the church was slowly filling with people.

Matt listened to his words, letting them wash over him. He prayed and thanked to God for things going well lately. For her saying yes; to both of his proposals.

The priest wavered at the space with the candles when people started leaving. Few of them stopped to talk to him quietly and Matt tried his best not to eavesdrop. He wanted to share the best news he would ever have with him, but didn't want to bother or keep him from doing more important things. He smiled when Father Lantom called out his name in barely audible whisper, inviting him to come to him.

"I would say I haven't seen that smile for a while, but I'm not sure I've _ever_ seen it. What's on your mind, Matthew?" the priest teased him lightly and Matt let his smile spread even wider.

"Good things," he answered evasively, his hand subconsciously reaching for the candles – their heat was just amplifying the feeling of pure joy that kept springing in his chest.

"That's a first."

Matt huffed a silent laugh. It wasn't entirely truth – almost every time he had talked about Vera, it had been a good thing _._ But this was _the best._ Vera… Matt didn't ask much about the time when he had been gone – neither Vera, neither the priest – only having the knowledge of Father Lantom meeting her, probably several times. Helping her. Matt didn't know what kind of help the priest had provided, but it might have been vital. It might be thanks to him that she had stayed in New York for all Matt knew. It occurred to him he had never thanked the man – and while he was sure it wasn't needed, it felt right.

"I wanted to thank you, Father. For… taking care of Vera when I wasn't here. We haven't… I'm not sure what you did, but… she said you helped. Thank you."

"You know you don't need to thank me, Matthew," he said, traces of admonishing in his voice. The priest's work – his mission – was to help people and Matt should be aware of that. And he was.

"I know, Father. But I hope I can still express my gratitude," he offered, bowing his head. The priest sighed, but his body gave him away. He was pleased.

"Well, I am an intermediary of our Lord. I hope you expressed your gratitude to Him as well…" The older man titled his head and Matt could feel his searching gaze. Any other day it would feel uncomfortable. But not today. Not yesterday. Not for a while. "It was a joy to meet such a remarkable young woman, so it was not exactly an unpleasant interaction."

Matt knew for a fact that it couldn't be completely true – Vera wasn't a believer. If something had drawn her to a church, it could have been nothing nice. Yet, the corners of his lips rose higher.

"'Remarkable'. That's one way to describe her."

"I met her on this very spot," the priest continued to Matt's surprise. Matt's mind already raced, wondering where the confession headed. "She was reaching for the candles too. A little lost, surprisingly chatty. She wasn't sure if she could light one."

Matt's head snapped up on instinct. "For who?"

"Do you really need me to say it, Matthew? For a man, leaving to protect his loved ones, fighting a war. I told her she could. She started coming here then. Once or twice a week."

Matt lost the ability to speak. Vera had been coming to his church _regularly_. To remember him. To send him hope. That was one hell of an attitude for someone who supposedly didn't believe in God.

"She's never said," he admitted quietly, his voice hoarse. Something grew in his throat. He would always find something new, wouldn't he? Another reason to love her?

"Well, I wouldn't expect her to do so. We talked a little from time to time. She has… a particular way of seeing the world. She's a good woman, Matthew. Kind-hearted. But brave, passionate. Faithful too. And… it's rare to find someone who loves us for – or despite of – all we are. Treat her well, give her a reason to stay," he advised wisely and Matt couldn't help but beam.

Of course he knew these things. That was why the one moment he just couldn't have kept his mouth shut anymore and had bluntly asked her if she would marry him. It had gone better than expected. Though the word _expected_ indicated he had planned it, which he really hadn't, not like that.

"I hope I already have."

Matt could tell the moment the priest figured out the puzzle behind Matt's high spirit.

"Ahhh.I see. That _is_ a good thing, indeed. My sincere congratulations, Matthew," he told him honestly, voice warm. Then he inclined into his space, lips barely whispering in conspiratorial tone. _"I shouldn't be telling you this, but you do deserve something good in your life._ Send her my regards. I'll be happy to meet her over a latté again, even if she has nothing weighting her soul down at the moment."

Matt's smile faltered slightly at the idea of what could have been weighting her soul down when she had come to the priest. He breathed in and out. "Thank you, Father. I'll make sure to pass the message on."

Father Lantom squeezed his forearm lightly. "I'm happy for you, Matthew. Both of you. She deserves good things too."

Matt just nodded, taking the hint and making his way out.

"Oh and Matthew? You realize someone needed to take care of Jack Murdock's grave while you weren't around, right?" he called out silently and Matt turned back to him sharply. But the priest was already leaving, so Matt walked to the graveyard as he had attempted, wondering

Why would Father Lantom say something like that? Of course Matt was aware of that. The grave was perfectly taken care of, he just never found himself to thank the priest for that. But Father Lantom obviously didn't want him to express gratitude, Matt had done that once today and the older man had been reluctant to accept it.

Matt stopped dead in his tracks when he realized what the priest had implied. And of course. _Of course_ , it should have hit him sooner.

He approached the tombstone, running his fingers over it, like always. It had been impossible to catch her scent, even when he had gone to the grave for the first time after his return – wind, rain and dew had taken it away. There was no way he could have sensed it then, let alone now, after six months. But he would swear he could nevertheless.

And when he did, he cried.

.

 **Claire:**

Vera was scared to death. She knew she just couldn't be so lucky. Of course things had been fucking going too well. They had gotten engaged. There was no way anything wouldn't fuck up soon; maybe she had been even counting on it.

But this? This was _a lot of blood_.

She had called Claire. At least Matt had been conscious when Vera had started stitching him up. Still conscious when Claire had arrived. Still conscious when Claire had assured Vera he would be fine and she had helped Vera to finish her work.

The nurse didn't even think he needed a transfusion; Vera wanted to do it anyway. Matt said no, because if Claire _,_ who usually yelled at him for being suicidal, was rather calm, he sure didn't need it. Vera gritted her teeth, watching in horror Matt sitting up.

"Jesus, Matt, you shouldn't be moving," Vera protested, lightly touching his bare shoulder, not wanting to hurt him further by fighting with him when pushing him back down. He took her gloved hand, pressing light kiss above her wrist, the nearest spot where her skin was uncovered.

"I'm going to be okay," he reassured her softly, sounding tired, but apparently with enough energy to pull her to his side, making her sit down on the couch. Not that she resisted, she really didn't want him to use more strength than was necessary or to move at all actually. He pressed another kiss to her hair when she carefully rested her head on his shoulder.

"Well, I guess my assistance is no longer required. Don't let him do any acrobatic shit for few days. Lots of liquids, rest-" Claire named, putting her gloves off.

"-and if he gets worse, feverish or something, call you or call 911, no matter how loud he protests. Gotcha, Claire. Thank you. I— I probably overreacted, didn't I?" Vera admitted sheepishly, apologizing.

Claire waved it off. "Hey, I get it. You're just being responsible – even when I believe you could do this without my help, because you did most of the job, there's nothing wrong with doubts. Whenever you feel like you can't do this by yourself and you need some backup… I'm just a phone call away."

Vera smiled gratefully. "Thank you. Really. It means a lot."

Claire shrugged, tossing the gloves to a garbage bin. "You called me after almost six months of my Matt-the-vigilante bullshit vacation. No offense, Matt, but it's nice not to stitch you up all the time. So we're good."

She closed the first aid kit with satisfaction; and she seemed to freeze. Matt at Vera's side tensed.

" _You son of a bitch,"_ Claire hissed, shooting him a look. Vera didn't understand. "Matthew Michael Murdock, how could you nottell me!"

Matt gulped so loudly Vera could hear it. She quickly looked at him, wondering what he hadn't told Claire. Was there any other injury Vera hadn't notice before? She retreated, scanning his whole body, then turning to Claire, puzzled.

Claire pointed at Vera. _"You,_ you could have mention something too, you know."

Vera was still confused and Claire sighed, pushing the kit away. _Oh_. Vera had taken the ring off before pulling on the gloves. The ring had been hidden under the lid of the kit. And Claire just revealed it.

Nope, they hadn't told her yet. Oops.

"We're engaged…?" Vera said hesitantly and Claire seemed unimpressed.

"You don't say."

"Sorry."

Claire rolled her eyes. "Apology accepted. Congratulation," she added with bright smile. Matt relaxed.

"Thank you, Claire. For your help too," he expressed his gratitude, watching the nurse with honest eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I'll drink to that tonight. No alcohol for the two of you though," she muttered under her breath, ruffled Matt's already messy hair playfully, patted Vera on her shoulder and walked out of her apartment.

"Well. Guess that's everyone." Vera stripped her gloves too, tossing them on the table in a roll-up, careful of not staining the table more than it already was. "Taking the couch tonight? I'll get you a blanket."

Because of course he could barely walk on the top of everything. Getting him to bed while avoiding his other injuries would be a nightmare.

She didn't wait for his answer, rising to her feet to find the blanket. His hand found hers to keep her from walking away. She looked at him in surprise.

"You'll be here with me?"

"I don't think that's a good idea, Matt. We _can_ both fit on my couch, but I really don't want to rip any of your stitches or you to be in more pain than you already are."

"Please?" he asked quietly, sounding incredibly vulnerable – the kind of vulnerability that had nothing to do with the stitches in his abdomen. His face was twisted in a strange grimace.

Vera sighed, caressing his hand before she let go. She took the kit, returned it to its place and went for the blanket. She would _not_ sleep on the couch with him. But _Jesus_ , the face he made. As if the idea of her sleeping in another room actually hurt him more than the bloody cuts and totally busted ankle.

Matt was still sitting when she gave him the blanket, covering his bare shoulders. He was scarily pale, absolutely rigid as she moved around, throwing away the gloves, offering him juice and water. She placed the glass in front of him, kissing his temple.

"At least sit with me for a while?" he pleaded, voice barely a whisper, obviously understanding she wouldn't comply with his previous wish.

"You really should get some sleep, Matt-"

"Did you change your mind?" he breathed, knuckles white as he was gripping the blanket tightly.

Vera froze halfway from him face, frowning. "About what?"

His Adam's apple jumped, his lips pressed together, but otherwise he didn't move. She retreated, baffled.

"About… about us."

And that was punch right to her gut. "What?" she choked out. "Why would I-"

"This. Me getting hurt, you playing nurse in the middle of the night, scared shitless. And… and…" his voice trailed off. Matt's eyes didn't work, but she couldn't help feeling like he was staring at one particular place on the table.

Oh. _Shit_. She hadn't put her ring back on. His ridiculous fear suddenly made sense, especially with him sleeping on the couch as if he was in disgrace and she refusing to be by his side. It was absolutely twisted logic, but it was still _logic_. She sighed, making her way to her bedroom, followed by his weak voice whispering her name.

He thought it was a yes. _Oh, Matt._

When Nina had been cleaning her apartment after the fight with Stick – and it felt like eternity since then – she had revealed an old camping mat fallen behind the wardrobe. The previous owner had been probably using it when working out. Vera didn't really care. She took it, stuffed her pillow and covers under her arm and walked back.

Matt was observing her, eyes glassy, corners of his lips turned down. He tilted his head curiously though when he realized what she had brought. She let it fall on the ground, pushing the table away, and making up her new bed in front of the couch.

His lips parted, but he still didn't let out a word when she put the ring back on. And yep, he had tears in his eyes by the time she sat down next to him.

"Listening to my heartbeat right now?" Vera asked, waiting for his nod, his expression transforming in pure awe. "Good. Gimme you hand."

Matt obediently let her take his hand and place it on her chest. That way, he could _feel_ her heartbeat too. The corners of his mouth twitched as if he wanted to smile. His sad imploring eyes softened.

"I'm not going anywhere. Sorry to disappoint." He wanted to say something, but she was faster, her ring finger pressing against the back of his hand to make him feel the metal on it. "That's an engagement ring, not a wedding one, I know. But I agreed to marry you. As far as I know, there is some line about being together for better or for worse. And I'm in, for both."

He let out a small laugh, wincing when the motion probably caused him pain. "Okay. Okay."

Matt reached for her jaw tenderly and she immediately gave in to the light pressure, meeting his lips halfway.

"You're the most amazing human being that has ever walked the Earth, you know that?" he whispered, _touched_ , running his fingers over the area where he felt her heartbeat the strongest. "And I love you. God, I love you so much, you have no idea."

"I thought we established that I actually do," she breathed back, kissing him few more times. "You seem to struggle with acknowledging that I love you that much back."

He smiled brilliantly. "It never gets less astounding."

"Feel the same way here. I guess we deserve each other after all," she offered, caressing her nose with his, placing one more kiss, this time on his forehead.

"Guess we do."

When she was falling asleep, his arm hanging from the couch so she could hide his hand between her folded palms, she still found it hard to believe that they did. But somehow, it was the truth.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Okay. So. That.

Have a personal favourite? Honestly I am torn between Karen and Foggy and Danny… 

Where to next? There is a third larger part of Damned happening. It's called All Roads Lead to Hell. So if you're interested... find it either on my profile, or under DD and Defenders crossover.

Much love.


End file.
